When I Was Thirteen
by lady-harker
Summary: Ben's curiosity was sparked when Riley mentioned he disappeared as a kid, but as Ben tries to piece together all that happened in that long lost time he could end up losing his friend altogether.
1. Behind My Back

**Disclaimer:** I'm not an owner of National Treasure; if I was d'you think I'd be writing fanfictions?

**A/N:** I'm back again! This storyline comes from a conversation Ben and Riley had towards the end of my first National Treasure fic Three Sides when Riley mentions about how he went missing when he was thirteen and doesn't remember anything about it (for full context and better understanding of conversation and this fic you should read Three Sides). I spent a fair while planning out and thinking through the basics of what happened in this missing period of time before I even sat at my pc to type this so there shouldn't be any plot shifts or anything so that's good, although I will soon need another new notebook with the rate my note-making is going at (I last bought one last Wednesday). Also keep in mind that this is a different kind of style to Three Sides so I'm bound to struggle at points and updates will be more irregular but any and all (constructive) criticism would be very much appreciated. And, of course, a huge thank you to LoremIpsum for suggesting I run with this idea because otherwise I would have just left it. ¦D

**When I was Thirteen…**

**Chapter One: Behind My Back**

**Song:** It's My Life by Bon Jovi

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* * *

_

Friendship is a mutual agreement that is held between two people. It contains unspoken rules and complicated moments of distress, worry and feared betrayal. The very best of friendships can ride these out and last a lifetime. Anything less is doomed to fail, especially when those involved are wracked in doubt. – Anon.

* * *

Riley reluctantly turned off the engine of his beloved Ferrari. Adventure and treasure was all well and good but nothing in the world could compare to the reassuring purr of his beautiful car's magnificent engine.

He looked up at the huge mansion where his two best friends lived.

It had been two months since he'd driven Ben back to Mount Rushmore and coaxed his friend out of a subconsciously-self-induced mutism. Talking through what had happened four weeks before _that_ hadn't been easy for Riley, sometimes he still had the odd nightmare about the whole thing, but it had got Ben talking which was the whole purpose of it.

Luckily, Abigail had allowed Ben to move back in with her pretty much straight away and there were no real troubles between the couple. Mind you, Riley wasn't sure if they _were_ a couple anymore or if they were just two friends looking out for each other; like roomies, but with a huge mansion estate instead of a flat.

Riley's visit wasn't random or anything; despite what everyone thought he didn't live at their place although he had more contact with them now than he'd had after the Templar treasure. Tonight was the night he'd been invited around for dinner; Abigail's treat. It was going to be great with the three of them talking about something not to do with treasure for once and just enjoying a nice meal together.

"Abigail! Ben!" he stepped into the main lobby and descended the stairs looking around; the problem with a big house was it was easy to lose someone in there. Riley knew from experience and couldn't go to any non-major room without a guide. "The guest of honour's here!"

"Riley!" Abigail came from the doorway opposite the bottom of the stairs and practically ran into his arms.

"Hey!" his broken cry caused her to jump back.

"Oh my God!" Her arm remained on his shoulder as he clasped at his side. The bullet wound had healed over leaving a nice patch of sensitive scar tissue and if he, or in this case Abigail, wasn't careful it would shoot a bolt of pain through him. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright." He managed to keep the mild pain from entering his voice although it sounded strained. "So, where's the human decrypter?"

"He's upstairs, in the study I think." Abigail pointed out the hallway to the right of the top of the stairs and almost immediately Riley made his way in the direction she indicated. "He said he wasn't to be disturbed under any circumstances."

"Meaning he's catching up on the old zee's." an innocent smile spread across his face as he continued. "And you know when that happens he's just _asking_ for a Riley-style wake up call." He chuckled at Abigail's disapproving look. "I'll be gentle, don't worry."

Minutes later he'd navigated the complicated corridors and found Ben's study. It was a huge room filled with row upon row of books stacked in bookshelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling and Riley failed to see how any one person had enough time in their life to read _that _many books. Then again if they were the _right _books…

Sure enough Ben was sat in his comfortable armchair, his head leaning back and a newspaper on the floor having fallen from his hand; silent snores came from the historian as he slumbered peacefully. It would almost be a shame to wake him up roughly. Almost.

Riley picked up the paper and placed it on the small table beside Ben. The guy's sleep tended to vary in deepness, once Riley had only to stand in the doorway doing nothing but breathing in a barely audible manner before he'd managed to wake Ben up, but this time there was no doubt it was deep because he was still in the chair. Riley was just considering what to yell enthusiastically in the historian's ear when the newspaper caused him to pause.

He'd only seen it in passing but there was something achingly familiar about the headline.

It wasn't a recent paper though, dated around fourteen years ago, so it couldn't have been one he'd read the other day. Beneath it there was an accompanying picture of a few people that were also familiar to him.

Carefully he picked it up and began to read the article.

Why did Ben have this?

* * *

Ben was vaguely aware of someone gripping his shoulder and shaking him, probably in an attempt to wake him. He didn't want to wake up just yet though; he was comfortable and warm in his chair. If he woke up he'd only have to move somewhere else and he was content in his comfort.

"Ben."

Riley? What was he doing in the study? Ben had some vague recollection about Abigail mentioning him coming over to dinner some time soon but that wasn't today. Was it?

"Ben!" the shaking got a bit more violent and Ben wearily opened his eyes. "Abigail says dinner's ready."

"Riley?" the boy didn't look terribly happy, greeting Ben's awakening with a distinct frown; he should have realised then that something was up.

"Welcome to the land of the living." And he slammed a newspaper onto Ben's chest before quickly striding out the room.

Ben rubbed his chest with confusion and lifted the paper. What was that about?

His eyes moved down to the paper and as he read through it his confusion turned immediately to worry.

--

_YOUNG BOY STILL MISSING DESPITE THOROUGH EXAMINATION OF LOCAL AREA_

_Reported missing four days ago, no one has seen or heard from local boy Riley J. Poole, 13, and there are grave concerns for his safety._

_Another day of investigation into the disappearance of the lad began with little hope as the police renewed their appeal for any witnesses to the boy's last movements._

_His parents also released a statement begging anyone with information about their son to come forward._

'_We are filled with fear as each day we walk past his empty room.' His father, Richard Poole, read to the press. 'We beg anyone out there with any possible information to come forward, even if they think it could be nothing, and help us find our son and put an end to our worry._

'_It's not just my wife and I who have lost our son but our other children have lost their brother and we beg you Riley, if you can see this, please come home.'_

--

Riley had seen this?

"Shit!"

* * *

Not knowing his way around the house really didn't help Riley make a dramatic exit when he wasn't concentrating on the way he was going. It's amazing how lost someone can get when they storm off in anger.

Why did Ben have that article?

Riley had only mentioned his disappearance in passing when they were at Mount Rushmore, he didn't expect Ben to go and investigate it. He'd even said he didn't remember anything about it and he didn't, he really _really_ didn't. Why didn't Ben realise that it was something to be **left alone**?

"Riley!" he could hear Ben running up behind him but he didn't stop or turn. "Riley!" A hand on his shoulder turned him round and he was facing his supposed 'best friend'. "The article. I can explain."

"Go on then." Riley crossed his arms hoping the historian had a convincing argument.

"It's just…when you said…" he was taking breaths between every few words. Riley must have gone pretty far pretty quickly because Ben wasn't exactly out of shape. "…about running away. Well, I got curious."

"Curious?" Riley considered it a moment before nodding "Well, I suppose it _is_ my own fault." Ben's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Your fault?"

"Yeah. I should've realised I couldn't mention something personal like that without you thinking that you had the right to go behind my back and look further into it." Ben frowned at Riley's sarcasm.

"Riley, I did _not _go behind your back."

"You didn't tell me about it, Ben. You probably weren't planning to either." Riley had raised his voice and was practically shouting. "I'd say that was behind my back."

"I think you may be jumping to conclusions, Riley. It's just an article." Ben looked slightly upset but didn't he realise how _betrayed_ this made Riley feel?

"But that's it just it. You weren't going to leave it at just an article," Ben opened his mouth to argue but Riley cut him off. "And don't say you were because we both know you weren't, because you can't. You never can." He strode over to Ben and poked him in the chest. "Everything we have today, the money, the mansion, the fame, all of it is because _you_ can't let anything be 'just an article'. I mean the Templar Treasure wasn't 'just an article' and your great-grandfather's protection of the city of gold wasn't 'just an article'." Riley drew back. "You may have convinced yourself that that's all it is for now, but you and I both know that won't last."

Silence fell between them and Riley knew he had won. Ben couldn't just leave things as is; that's why he'd looked for that article. He probably hadn't meant to offend Riley but the fact that he kept it from him suggested that maybe he knew it would.

"You're right." Ben sounded dejected and beaten when he finally spoke but looked Riley in the eye with sure-fire determination. "But _you_ said that you don't remember anything about it."

"And?"

"And I was wondering _why_ you couldn't remember."

"I probably had a very good reason, Ben." Riley could tell it was just concern on his friend's part but his past was really none of Ben's business.

"Which is exactly why I was looking for the article." Ben's voice was rising and so was his anger. Riley's mind flashed back to when Ben had shouted at him while they were looking for the Templar Treasure; he'd gone on to apologise but both of them knew that wasn't going to happen; this wasn't an act.

"It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Yes it does, Riley." Ben strode over to him and looked like he was trying not to shake some sense into the boy. "Whether it was fourteen years ago or twenty years ago it matters. Because everything you've ever done has made you the annoyingly stubborn person you are today."

"So I'm annoying, am I?"

"Don't try and change the subject, Riley!" Ben was shouting now, his face turning red with frustration.

Riley stared at Ben as silence descended upon them again. He had a point; Riley had changed after that week; he didn't mingle well with people and that was why his mom had signed him up for computer club, so he could meet new people. And because he went to computer club, he'd discovered his ability for computers which had led him to his windowless cubicle where Ben had found him. If not for that week he wouldn't be here now.

"I just want to know what happened so I can better understand _you_."

Ben looked back at him and Riley could see the glint of determination in his eye which usually made him crumble and agree; it was the exact same glint Ben had had when deciding to kidnap the President. If Riley didn't know any better he'd swear Ben thought this was another treasure hunt with the prize being the Missing Week of Riley Poole's Life instead of gold.

Riley dropped his gaze; there was a part of him that wondered about it but there was something deep in his gut that told him if he tried to remember or ever found out he would regret for the rest of his life; he didn't remember anything and he was fairly certain there was a horribly painful reason for that. If he was to find out what happened it could get really messy and change who he was all over again.

And Riley liked who he was.

He looked back up at Ben. He'd calmed down now and was patiently waiting for an answer but his face fell when Riley turned and walked away.

"What about Dinner?" he sounded defeated and Riley struggled to keep walking.

If he kept going Riley knew it would be a long time before they'd be seeing each other. If he didn't turn back round right now and agree to it then he'd lose his best friend for a long time and there would be no turning back the clocks and going back to the way things were.

But if he kept going it would be the end of Ben's inquisitive investigation; his friend would realise it was intrusive and totally wrong and he'd leave it alone.

That was why Riley didn't turn back.

_

* * *

_

Riley had had enough. There obviously wasn't anyone who wanted him around here enough to try and stop him, so he was going.

_It had been an idle threat he'd made when he was feeling low and upset and which he hadn't really meant at the time but now he'd decided to go ahead with it. Maybe then his family would appreciate him. How did the saying go?_

_Absence makes the heart grow fonder._

_Yeah, well, his family would realise how great he was and come crawling on their knees to beg him to come home but he'd have none of it. He'd stay away and only come back if certain changes were made._

_It wasn't easy being the youngest of three kids, especially when plenty of people kept measuring you up to their standards. He'd lost count of the amounts of times he'd been watched with hopeful eyes as his Phys. Ed. teachers read the family name and asked that accursed question._

'_You're not Joseph Poole's younger brother, are you?'_

_And the same in any academic class, but with his sister Anabell._

_Riley wasn't stupid, wasn't even just plain average, but he was forever living in the shadow of his brother and sister and he'd had enough._

_There had been a book in the school library which talked about how kids all over the world lived on the streets and Riley didn't see why, if they could do it, he couldn't._

_The day he'd chosen was a Friday because they might not notice his disappearance at the weekend and it gave him the chance to come back if he chickened out and no one would be any the wiser. When it came, the young boy ran home where he emptied the entire contents of his school bag onto his bed. He then proceeded to stuff it with clothes, pyjamas and underwear; he may be going to live on the street but that didn't mean he had to be dirty._

_Mom yelled at him to be careful as he thundered down the stairs and rushed out the door._

"_Dinner will be at five." She called as he slammed the door shut behind him._

_Walking along the sidewalk felt so liberating. He didn't answer to anyone now; no bed times, no school, he was truly free._

_He was passing an alley near the end of his street when he heard someone call out. Instinctively he ducked behind some boxes._

_From his hiding place he couldn't see what was going on but he heard angry hushed voices from within the alley. Riley tried to calm his breathing, worried he'd be found in his hiding place._

"_I'll kill you before I let that happen." Growled a deep voice and there was some scuffling as whoever was there began fighting. It stopped when there was a loud bang which made Riley jump and a man landed with a deadening thud in his view to the side of the boxes._

_Riley really tried not to, like really really tried, but he screamed as he saw the hole in the man's head oozing with blood and the cold, dead look in his eyes which were staring straight up at the clouded sky. He was dead!_

_He was dead and he'd nearly landed right on top of Riley and that thought only made the boy scream louder._

_There was more shuffling and a burly bearded man came round the side of the boxes with a gun in his hand. He looked so menacing and snarled at the boy who couldn't stop screaming._

"_C'mere!" the man growled and reached out for him with his free hand, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck. Riley wailed as he smelt the alcohol on the man's breath and saw the anger crackling in his eyes. "Shut up!" and he bashed the boy round the face with his gun instantly knocking him out._

_Why did he run away from home?_

* * *

Riley jerked awake with a scream.

The clock on the other side of the room said it was only half seven and he groaned.

It took him a while to calm himself down and stop himself from shaking uncontrollably. He wiped a hand across his forehead and realised he was sweating too. He had to keep telling himself it was only a dream, repeating it over and over inside his head; except, of course he knew it wasn't just a dream, it was far too real and far too familiar.

He sighed. Once he'd got back home after leaving Ben's place he'd crashed on the couch exhausted; ever since he'd left the hospital two months ago, he was sleeping more or less as soon as he laid down pretty much anywhere, and would sometimes end up having hours and hours of sleep while other times, like now, he'd barely get twenty minutes.

There was nothing for it. Reaching across for his cell phone he rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up a bit more and he pressed the speed dial number he needed. When he heard it ringing he placed it against his ear and waited.

"Riley." Ben's voice was hurried as though worried Riley would hang up any moment. "Listen. I'm real-"

"I'm in." there was a pause.

"What?"

"I'm in." He sighed. He was so going to regret doing this. "But I still hate you."


	2. Start at the End

**Disclaimer:** If I owned National Treasure I wouldn't have to worry about coming up with a witty yet original disclaimer to start each chapter with now would I? So you figure it out.

**A/N:** Okay! S'a bit slow, pologies and all that but I have good news! Hurrah! I have pretty much everything planned out for the rest of this fic, cept the end is a bit in flux. It's starting to settle down though and I'll soon wrestle it into submission. I'd tell you how I'm trying to stop it coming out but that would just spoil _every_thing for you so my lips are shtoom. But I have the chapter titles written out with a small plan to the side in my latest notebook (still got a bit of room left in there. Hurrah!) so as a little experiment, since I wondered how many peeps actually read this part, I'll tell you the next chapter is called 'playing catch-up' and see how you think of that. Teeny bit of a shock/cliff-hanger ending but not really like proper-like. Thanks to reviewers and those who have put upon alert. You should see how happy I am when I wake up to a new bunch of reviews (since I'm in britain most of my reviews come to me at like really too early for me to be awake to see them as they appear). Just read through these notes and I would like to apologise for the non-sensical nature of them as my friends sat there and failed to stop me from eating fizzy cola bottles with cherry cola, despite knowing that both of them tend to get me far too hyper for my own good. One or the other is bad enough, both together tend to inhibit normal brain thinking patterns and in the end it's you lot who suffer. Sorry :s

**Chapter Two: Start at the End**

**Song:** No Matter What by Boyzone

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* * *

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-I believe it was Maria from the Sound of Music who said that the beginning is a very good place to start.

_-Well, no one's perfect._

– _Anon._

* * *

"Hello." The voice on the intercom was almost completely drowned out by whoops of delight and laughter in the background.

"Is that the Pizza?" came another voice in the background.

"We're looking for Joe." Ben looked to Riley leaning against the wall to the side of the intercom who nodded.

"Say we have beers." He murmured.

"We have beers."

"Alright." The buzzer went off and the two of them entered the apartment building.

An hour and a half ago he'd picked Riley up from his apartment and they'd driven here. Through the whole drive the kid hadn't said a word other than to direct Ben merely gazing out the window and refusing to make eye-contact with him. He was probably still pretty angry about it, or at least upset.

Riley led the way up the stairs and along the corridor stopping outside number eighteen.

"Knock." He leant against the wall beside the door.

Ben looked at Riley as he knocked. He seemed edgy and distinctly like he didn't want to be there and Ben wondered again why Riley had agreed to this. He had planned on letting it go, leaving it well alone but then Riley had called up saying he knew where to start.

The door was answered by a burly guy carrying a beer whose breath smelt like he'd already had three or four of them. He looked at Ben confused.

"You don't have any beer." His voice slurred which showed he'd definitely had a few too many.

"Jason?" the burly guy was pushed out the way by another someone who was distinctly more sober. "What have I told you about answering my door?" This guy was about Ben's height with short dark hair and broad shoulders. "Sorry about him." He ran a hand down the side of his face with a nervous laugh. "Can I help you?"

Ben looked to Riley; he honestly didn't have a clue as to what came next. This was Riley's idea not his and he didn't even know who this guy was. "Well…"

Riley stepped into view of the door. "Hey Joe."

"Riley?" Joe looked pleased, if a bit shocked to see the kid, and his face spread into a wide smile.

"Yeah." Ben looked between them in confusion and noticed that Riley looked sorta shaken and a bit ragged.

There was a roar of excitement from inside the apartment.

"What are you doing here?" Delighted as he seemed, Joe obviously wasn't expecting to see Riley.

"Ben?" Ben reached into his jacket to fish out the newspaper.

Riley had instructed him to bring it during their short phone conversation two hours ago but had in no way indicated why they might need it. Ben just had to trust him that he knew what he was doing.

The kid took the paper and handed it to Joe whose face fell as he read it.

"You better come in." he stood back to let them through the door. "I won't be a minute."

Riley led the way into the living space, which was quite sizable and filled with four rowdy men all of which looked the same age as Joe. They gave another cheer as something happened on the large plasma screen TV on the wall opposite the couch they were all squeezed onto. All of them were big and bulky, more so than Joe and they each held a beer in their hand with various snacks such as nachos and popcorn scattered around on the floor.

Suddenly the TV switched off and they all turned round shouting in annoyance to the large hole in the wall behind them which looked into the kitchen.

"Out." Joe was stood there with the remote outstretched. "Everybody." This prompted more cries of anger. "Now!"

Disgruntled groans were shared as the four men packed themselves up and begrudgingly filed through the door on their way out.

"Make yourselves comfortable." Joe indicated the couch before disappearing out the side of the kitchen.

Riley practically collapsed onto the piece of furniture in the centre of the room, his eyes closing as soon he laid his head back. Ben just stood there awkwardly looking around at the room. It was slightly messy but there was obviously some sort of organisation to the chaos; DVDs stacked by the television, magazines over-spilling a pitifully small magazine rack and so forth.

"Riley?" the boy remained motionless and Ben began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep or was simply ignoring him when Joe appeared in the kitchen again.

"Sorry about them. My turn to host guy's night. Don't worry." He added seeing Ben's guilty look. "They'll get over it. Drink?" Joe smiled at Ben as he shook his head politely at his offer.

Ben looked at Joe and wondered why they were here and how Riley knew this guy. Not that it was really any of his business, he reminded himself thinking back to how this started. His mind flashed back to when Riley had known about daylight savings time and Ben hadn't. The kid'd seemed genuinely surprised, insisting on savouring the moment because he thought that was how it felt to be Ben. Was this what it felt like to be Riley? In the dark while Ben went round, all the cards in hand, and being forced to trust in him despite knowing next to nothing?

"Riley?" Joe's gaze settled on the kid taking up most of the couch.

"Joe."

"You want anything?" Riley merely shrugged not moving to get up or anything. "D'you mind if I…?"

"Knock yourself out." There was some rummaging around as Joe ducked out of sight and re-emerged with a fresh beer in his hand. "I thought you didn't drink beer." Riley's eyes were still closed so Ben assumed he'd heard the clink of bottles.

"I'm sure you'll forgive me this one time."

The banter between the two of them was surprisingly natural, but there was an edge of strain to it; these two obviously knew each other but the hows and the wheres and the whyfores were a mystery which Ben just couldn't figure out.

"I'm sorry," Ben gave up as Joe came into the room, "but I feel as though I'm missing something here."

"Who's this Ri?" Joe looked to the boy with a smile.

"He's a…friend." The pause was for Ben, so that the historian realised that just because Riley had agreed to this didn't mean that he was off the hook over the whole thing.

Ben held out his hand and introduced himself seeing as Riley seemed somewhat reluctant. "Ben Gates."

"That treasure hunter guy, right?" Joe nodded in recognition before striding over, holding out his hand "Well, Ben Gates, I'm Joe Poole."

"Joe Po-? Joseph." Realisation hit him as they shook hands. "_You're_ Joseph. Riley's brother." Joe nodded his eyes flicking to Riley and his smile faltering a little.

It was obvious; Ben wondered why he hadn't realised sooner. Similar hair, similar posture, similar build; well if Riley worked out a bit then he would look like Joe; and the distinct similarity between Joe and the young man in the photo of Riley's family that had accompanied the article they had handed to him.

"Please." He indicated the chair to Ben's left as he sat down in the armchair to the right of the couch.

Ben sat down and realised why he'd recognised the organised chaos; it was more or less exactly like Riley's apartment. An absolute mess, yes; but and absolute mess with a system.

"Why now, Ri?" Ben looked up and saw Joe's smile had completely gone as he looked to his younger brother.

"Am I not allowed to be curious?" he shrugged innocently.

"Oh sure. I always knew you'd wanna know some day but…" he sighed. "Why now?"

Ben felt Riley staring at him from the corner of his eyes if he was angry none of it reached his voice as he spoke. "I just thought it was time to, you know, talk about it."

"Umm-hmm." Joe took a swig of beer, obviously not convinced as he watched Ben with quizzical eyes. "How much do you actually remember?"

There was a pause. "Not a lot. Most of it's what people told to me."

"I found you." Riley' raised his head slightly as his brother blurted it out. Joe blushed slightly as he continued. "Well actually, Mrs Eveston found you. I coaxed you out of the bush in her backyard."

Riley leant his head back again in thought. "I don't remember that."

Joe murmured something as he went for another swig of beer and Ben couldn't be sure but it sounded suspiciously like 'Good.'

"I don't know what happened to you but I'll never forget what it was like when I found you."

Ben felt somewhat of a third wheel sitting there; this was a personal family moment which he was invading in on, but every time he thought about making some excuse to leave so they could talk alone he noticed Riley looking at him through the clumps of hair that had fallen into his eyes. They didn't seem angry anymore, more like they were...pleading? Was that it?

He sighed. Riley had brought him along for a reason, whether that was to feel guilt for what he'd brought up or to be an emotional support for his friend, he was going to stay.

_

* * *

_

_His mother had barely placed the receiver down before Joe was sprinting down the street towards old Mrs. Eveston's house with her address clasped in his hand. It would probably have been quicker to take the car but he knew he'd just end up fumbling the keys and he just couldn't deal with that when he felt so close to finding Riley. He needed to use his fear for something useful, something productive._

_That's what was driving him now. His fear. Fear for his brother. Fear for his safety_

_It could just be another false alarm or a hoax. Dear God, if it was another hoax, whoever was responsible would be in hospital before they could even take a breath to laugh about it. But there was something different about this; Mrs. Eveston had given an almost perfect description of Joe's little brother, the only wrong part she had given was Riley's build. She'd said very thin and hunched-up but Riley, although not broad like himself, wasn't scrawny, had some meat on his bones._

_Joe wasn't focusing on that right now though. All he needed to do was get to the house and that's what his limbs were doing; carrying him as fast as he could in the right direction; running faster than they'd ever run before. After a while they began to scream in pain but he didn't pay it any attention forcing himself onwards, driven by the address clasped in his hand. Nothing stopped him running, not even the oncoming traffic; if he stayed on the sidewalks it would take longer to get there and time was something he had had too much of lately._

_Riley and he sometimes used to have their fights but they were brothers; as they kept telling their parents, it's in the job description. No, when it really mattered the two were inseparable; Joe kept an eye out for the weedy kid and Riley would come to his big brother for advice and help._

_A lady who he assumed was Mrs. Eveston was waiting outside pointing through the open door into her kitchen. Joe was in in an instant and practically crashed through the back door._

"_RILEY!" he yelled, scanning the back yard. "RILEY!" There was a whimper on the furthest edge of the yard and Joe had to look carefully two or three times to notice the two feet that were sticking out from underneath the bush._

"_Riley!" his legs started to carry him over to the bush but quickly collapsed beneath him from over-exertion. Instead of stopping, Joe crawled over towards the bush craning to see who the feet belonged to._

_It was his brother; or at least it looked like it was his brother, except it couldn't be. His legs were too thin and too white, almost skeletal and black bruises were visible along each of his arms. The kid didn't move at all but there was no way that someone could seem as tense as this kid did without being aware that someone was just a few feet in front of him._

_His face was buried in his knees which were drawn up into his chest, held there by his arms that were hugging his legs so tight they looked milk-white especially when compared with his dark hair._

"_Ri?" Two eyes peeked between the hair and the arms at him. "It's me. It's Joe." He tried not to startle him as he reached into the bush with a hand. "You wanna come out of there?" the boy didn't move. "I'm not gonna hurt you." there was a small whimper and a strangled sob from the kid. "I'm gonna take you home."_

_Joe's arm began to ache as he waited patiently for the boy to move but he ignored it. Ever so slowly, one of the battered arms crept out and placed a hand in Joe's and the lad carefully pulled his little brother out of the bush. Riley's grip on his hand was bone-crushing, like he was afraid Joe would disappear if he let go even a little bit. Joe didn't allow relief to flood him, wanting to see what the kid looked like before he started celebrating._

"_You see." Joe's eyes surveyed the boy stood before him and struggled to not shake with fear._

_Riley's eyes were red and sore, one of them developing a nasty bruise, there were a few minor cuts on his face and a nasty bump on his head. Through his tattered clothes Joe could see several more dark bruises across Riley's torso and legs and the boy's left ankle was red and swollen, possibly broken. How had he got in that bush from…wherever he'd been with all that? There was too much damage on his body, too much fear in his eyes._

"_Riley…" His voice caught in his throat. "What happened?"_

_There was another sniff and Riley's free hand leapt up to his eyes as he tried not to cry. Instantly Joe put an arm round him and pulled him into a tight embrace. _

"_It's alright." Sobs were shaking the little boy's body as he tried to stop from crying. "You can cry Ri. It's just me." The shakes became more violent as he broke down. "You're alright. You're safe." Joe didn't know what to say and his heart broke as Riley's arms reached round him and grasped desperately at the back of Joe's shirt. "We found you." a warm tear fell down Joe's cheek as he realised it. Riley was alive. _

_Riley's legs buckled as he sobbed helplessly and Joe pulled him closer into his lap. He sat cradling his little brother who began grasping at his back and trying desperately to stand up again. It didn't matter right now; he didn't want to know what had happened; all he wanted was to kneel there cradling his little brother, rocking him slightly as he knew that the boy was safe._

_Joe tried to whisper reassuringly to the thin child in his arms but Riley was becoming frantic and panicked with each passing moment which did nothing to soothe his racing heartbeat. Without warning Riley began howling, wailing, scrunching his fingers up into claws, helplessly clutching at the back of Joe's shirt while his older brother rubbed him soothingly on his back. Joe assumed it was Riley finally realising that he'd been found, that whatever had happened to him was over, that it was safe enough to be scared._

_Mrs. Eveston, who was stood behind him, mentioned something about emergency services but Joe didn't take it in, too busy listening to Riley's wails, seeing if there was anything he was crying that could give a clue as to what happened. But there were no words just loud, anguished cries of pain and fear that sounded as though they had been kept quiet for too long and were just now releasing themselves. Joe couldn't identify what it was about the screams but they were of sheer terror with an edge of pleading to them; never before had he seen anyone so afraid of something._

_When the ambulance arrived, Joe had to gather Riley up in his arms and carry him through the house to the front where the vehicle was waiting for them. Riley's cries meanwhile had subsided to simple whimpering sobs. The boy's eyes were fluttering and Joe got this uneasy feeling that Riley was only too exhausted to cry as he had before, not that he was over whatever it was that had caused this._

_The paramedics desperately tried to get Riley to remove himself from Joe's clothing and they mostly succeeded having to settle for having him laid out on the gurney with one hand reached out holding fast to the front of Joe's shirt. As they began to set off, he placed a shaky hand on his brother's and felt how cold it was. All of him looked deathly-white and Joe was able to get a better look at him._

_There was a rip in the left leg of his jeans as well as across the stomach of his shirt and one of his shoes was missing. The shoe that was still on its owner's foot had a broken shoelace, the tip of which was very muddy and slightly bloody. It was then he noticed Riley's fingers. The tip of every single finger was cracked, worn and covered in dry blood; there were a few which were still bleeding now._

_At the hospital, mom, dad and their sister Anabell were already there, all of them crying. Riley's hands were pried off Joe's shirt so he could be taken off for treatment. He stood there feeling empty, somehow convincing himself that he'd been delusional and not seen his brother at all. A set of arms curled around him; Annie._

_She was three years his junior at fifteen. They would often have arguments about who was at the best age. Joe's arguments were typical of an eighteen year old but her defence that she was old enough to have responsibility within the family yet seen as young enough to react as a child. Even so she was silently crying as she clung to him; it was different to how Riley had clung, less afraid, more worried._

_When the doctor came to see them, they had a long list of injuries and maladies which they read out with a solemn look._

_Malnutrition; dehydration; exhaustion; confusion; disorientation; hysteria; a broken ankle; a fractured leg; a few minor burns on his legs; bleeding fingers, most likely caused by scratching at some wall or rock; astonishingly black bruises absolutely _everywhere_; severe head trauma, but thankfully only a mild concussion._

_He proceeded to mutter something to the parents about there being possible internal damage but there being no way of knowing just yet and Riley's screaming being a less-than-encouraging indication about his psychological well-being._

_"It isn't how we would expect a thirteen year old to react." were his exact words._

_Horror stories ran through Joe's mind as he contemplated who could possibly have caused all that pain to a defenceless child. Definitely not what; some_one_ had done this to Riley._

_Joe hoped for the perpetrator's sake that they would never meet._

* * *

Silence descended upon them as Joe finished his story and took another swig of beer. BEn began to wish he hadn't turned down having one of his own.

"Wow." Riley swallowed "It must've been a pretty...gruesome week for me to end up like _that_ to not and remember anything at all."

"A week?" Riley and Ben both looked up at the confused look on Joe's face. "Ri…You..."

"Joe?"

"Riley." His brow furrowed as he debated internally before he spoke again. "You weren't missing for a week. You were missing for nearly a month."


	3. Playing CatchUp

**Disclaimer:** If I owned these characters and the movie concepts I wouldn't be very willing to share them so you wouldn't even know about them and writing this fic would be useless as no one would know about it. So before we get into a whole paradox debate about everything, just consider this chapter disclaimed. K?

**A/N:** Now this is one of those chapters that other authors might call a 'filler' as it is not moving on the plot but I refuse to do this. Although the plot doesn't really take too much part in this it is **important stuff**,the set-up for the plot if you will, and increases on the fraternal dynamic between Riley and Joe. I had to rewrite the majority of this six or seven times before it got to this point but I think I can safely say that I'm happy with where it is now (famous last words). Luckily though, I finished this before I picked up two packs of refreshers and finished them both off in less than two minutes. If you don't know what refreshers are, they're sort of like small pellets of compacted sherbet that are very high in sugar and should so NOT be eaten when you need to focus on anything important. Sorry if you think this is a bit 'tame' but I'm gonna be annoying and tell you that this is the calm before the storm! (nasty nasty teaser. hee hee) Thank you to all those who are reading this, as well as those who are kind enough to review and/or fave and/or put it on alert. Really good confidence booster (or boot up the bum when I'm resting on my laurels). Oh and FYI looks like we're definitely gonna hit double figures with this fic. Hurrah! Also I've gone through and assigned a song to each chapter that I think fits the main event/feeling of a character/general situation in the chapter. I'm putting one in for each forthcoming chapter (helps me know the kind of thing I'm gonna do) and I'm just gonna go back and do the first two so check them out too. If you think there's a better one for any chapter then let me know as my music library is very limited (so there's gonna be few songs by the same artist but tbh this particular artist has very good general songs while everyone else seems to stick to romance. Bleurgh!) Anyway let me know what you think of it. Laters. ¦D

**Important! **In our seemingly never-ending battle the undecided ending of this fic won and split into several ideas and I'm having trouble deciding on one of them so I've set up a poll on my profile page where there are a few keywords as to the kind of thing I can include in the ending but they're non-revealing so you can't guess where I'm likely to take it. Believe me, I don't think like the rest of you. So if you could pick out one or twoof those it would really help me ou- Hey! Wait a minute! Not yet! Read this chapter first or one of the choices will make no sense! Any suggestions that aren't on the poll then send me a message or leave it in a review.

**Chapter Three: Playing Catch-Up**

**Song: **Touches You by Mika

_

* * *

_

Finding out that those we love have moved on without us is enough to make us stop and count the years gone by. – Anon.

* * *

"Ow!" Riley failed to restrain the cry of pain as he misjudged the distance for getting his hand out of the cupboard and it smacked into the side.

Joe had insisted that he and Ben stay the night since Riley kept falling asleep on the couch; stupid comfy couch. He listened carefully while he cradled his sore hand listening to the movements of Ben who was crashed out on said couch. The last thing he needed was to Ben more pity-fodder.

Nothing. Good.

Riley continued with his rummaging swiftly moving from cupboard to cupboard in search of what it was he needed.

"Try the third drawer in the freezer."

There was a soft thud as Riley jumped at the sound and knocked his head on the side of the cupboard.

"Geez, Joe." Riley withdrew from his current searching place, rubbing his head; his heartbeat felt reluctant to return to normal as he saw his brother stood at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe. Riley paused a moment before he resumed his rummaging. "You don't know what I'm looking for."

"Just look in the drawer." Riley resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he closed the cupboard and shuffled over to the freezer. It would be better to just do as he was told; he was too tired to argue properly anyway. A shiver threatened to shake his body against the cold as he grabbed the third drawer and opened it.

"I thought you didn't like ice cream." Settled against the front edge of the drawer was one of those small tubs with enough in for two people, or one very greedy person. Riley currently thought himself to figure in the latter group

"I don't." Joe's mouth was drawn in a satisfied smile as Riley pulled it out. "It's for Mary." Riley froze for a moment before he started to put it back. "Riley?"

"I can't." he shook his head.

"Seriously, Ri." Joe strode over and quickly pulled it out again before Riley shut the drawer. "Don't worry about it. I'll get her some more." Riley flinched as Joe pressed the tub into his chest.

"Cold!" he whined. He pulled the ice-cream to his stomach and cradled it in his hands. It was Mary's.

"Sit." Joe indicated the breakfast stool tucked underneath the side. "Eat."

Reluctantly, Riley pulled out the stool and perched on the edge of the plastic seat while Joe handed him a spoon. Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough Ice Cream; definitely favoured by children but more than adequate for Riley's current need for a high amount of sugar.

Popping the lid, he ran the spoon over the top. The sound of it sent another shiver down his spine; what was it with ice cream and the shivers?

"How is she?" he didn't look up from the small tub worried to actually make eye-contact with his brother. "Mary, I mean.

"She keeps asking when she's gonna see her Uncle Riley."

His grip on the spoon loosened as his insides twisted. "Like I don't feel guilty enough, Joe."

"Sorry." Joe was glaring at him; Riley could see it from the corner of his eye as he focused on keeping his breathing even. "It _has _been six years, you know."

"That long?" It didn't feel that long. Then again, there had been just over two years of treasure hunting 'fun' with Ben and various other people. And you know what they say. Time flies when your life is constantly under threat. "How old is she?"

"Twelve."

"See her often?"

"Every once in a while." It could just have been Riley but there seemed to be an undertone of 'More than I see you' to Joe's voice which twisted his stomach again.

Mary, so called after their own mother Marian, was Joe's daughter by his ex-wife Pamela. Riley had only ever met her three times, the first when she was nearly two years old, the second just after her parents had divorced, and the third, as Joe pointed out, had been six years ago. It was unlikely she remembered who he was at all.

The ice cream was beginning to melt so he scraped a small layer off the top and slowly placed it in his mouth as he thought. The sweetness was soothing to his throat, which was hoarse from quiet screaming in his sleep, and the small pit of unease that had amassed in his stomach since he'd first found the article.

"You had a nightmare, didn't you?" Joe's expression was unreadable when Riley look up at him.

"Don't know what you're talking about." He had another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, hoping to hide the blatant lie; and, it seemed, failing.

"What would you have done if I'd moved?" Riley looked up at him.

"Not viable." Joe seemed intrigued and waited for Riley to continue. "Ever since you moved out of the family home you always made sure I knew exactly where you lived. Every single time you moved you'd contact me and check over and over that I knew your address. Seemed a bit overprotective to be honest; makes sense now though."

Joe didn't say anything else and Riley avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the tub in front of him. It couldn't hold his attention long though; damn sugar.

"How's Annie?" If he hadn't seen Joe in six years, then when on earth had he last seen his older sister? It must have been at her wedding to Robert Lane. Geez, that must have been…closer to _ten_ years ago.

Shit.

"She's doing really well, actually." Joe had wondered into the living and was speaking so as to not disturb Ben. Riley watched as his brother's mouth spread into a quiet smile. "She and Rob moved to Europe four years ago. Spain, I think."

"I've _really _been out of touch." He nodded silently.

"You've got your own life Riley. In fact, me and Annie don't really see each other any more either."

"Well duh, she lives in _Europe_." Riley spooned another dollop of ice cream into his mouth letting it melt on his tongue and trickle down his throat and chewing on the cookie dough. Mary really did have a good taste in ice cream.

"She writes sometimes."

"Hmm?" he still had some ice cream in his mouth.

"Annie. Not a lot, like once every four to six months."

"Probably too busy trying to keep Rob in order." Riley smiled. Joe was rummaging through some papers strewn across a small table that was practically invisible under the large amount of post. "Joe?"

"I should have the last one she sent actually." There was more rifling around before he eventually he found an envelope and pulled something out of it with a flourish. "Here. She sent a picture."

Riley reached to take it from Joe's outstretched hand as he returned to the hole in the wall.

It was a nice photograph. Years may have gone by but there was no mistaking the wide grin on his sister's face as she clutched at her hubby. Rob's hair was longer and darker than Riley remembered it although it did suit him. Then sat between the two of them was a small skinny kid, also with a huge grin on his face and dark hair similar to that of both Annie and Rob's. Turning it over there was a short note.

_At the park with Rob and R.J._

"They had a kid."

"Yeah." Joe was watching him carefully but Riley didn't even notice.

"R.J." Riley read it again. "How old is he?"

"Nearly six now." He really had missed so much of their lives but couldn't help but smile looking at the small child grinning so enthusiastically in his parents' arms. "D'you know what the R. stands for?"

"Rob?" Rob Junior seemed a bit cliché but there was no doubt that his sister would name her son that; Joe shook his head.

"Apparently, ever since he learned to talk, he's been near impossible to stop." Riley's brow furrowed. What did that have to do with anything? "He's excitable, bouncy, easily distracted and look at his eyes." Joe indicated the picture.

The boy's eyes were a bright blue and sparkling with life; a distinct contrast to Rob's mellow hazel eyes.

"R. doesn't stand for Rob." Joe couldn't stop grinning as he saw the realisation grow on his younger brother's face. "It stands for Riley."

_

* * *

_

02:18

_If Joe's clock was right then Riley would be poking his head in soon._

_Three mornings ago the Poole household had woken to find Riley asleep in the kitchen after having snuck down in the night and consumed over half a pound of sugar. He'd recently been more and more like how he was before and then _this_ had happened, so mom and dad had sent him to the psychiatrist today._

_Dr. Sewell was a nice lady and Joe knew she was just trying to help his brother, but every time the kid came back from her clinic he would be quiet and introvert and shut himself off from everything. Every time Riley came back he'd be barely millimetres away from the wailing child that he'd found in Mrs. Eveston's back yard and it became unbearable for Joe and Annie to speak to him when he was that way._

_But every night when Riley became distant, he'd wait until he was sure everyone was asleep before he'd creep across the landing and stick his head in the door. Once he was satisfied that Joe was asleep he would tiptoe across the floor before clambering under the covers and curling himself up next to his older brother. If he was particularly scared he would gently move one of Joe's arms and drape it across his side so they were hugging. Then in the early-ish hours of the morning, before Joe would wake up, he'd sneak out again. Sometimes he'd sleep and others he wouldn't but the boy seemed to feel safer and more relaxed in his brother's arms._

_Joe hadn't even realised Riley was doing this until he woke up once in the middle of the night to find the younger boy's face buried in his chest and Riley's fingers clinging to the front of his pyjamas. It had startled him to say the least but as it became more regular he began to wonder how many times the kid had done this before._

_Riley was, according to Dr. Sewell, in a dormant yet easily-triggered state of shock. Whenever she, or the police, had asked him what had happened he managed to say something about a man in an alley before he'd clam up or break down. Either way they couldn't find out what happened from him._

_Similarly, whenever anyone in the family mentioned to Riley about his missing twenty-six days his eyes would glaze over and he'd become unresponsive for up to five hours one time. Annie and Joe had quickly decided to leave it well alone, treating him more or less as they had done before and he usually responded well to that._

_The cops did say someone had been found dead in a nearby alley the night Riley vanished and had managed to conclude that whoever murdered the man was probably responsible for Riley's disappearance. That was where the trail ran cold; the murdered man was homeless with few friends and the cops had little else to go on._

_Sure enough there was a click as the bedroom door opened and Joe tried to keep his breathing even; if he didn't appear to be asleep Riley would disappear back into his own bedroom and come down in the morning looking traumatized and dishevelled. It didn't do well for anyone to see him like that._

_There was a soft shuffling across the bedroom floor and a rush of cold air as Riley quietly crept beneath the covers. As the kid curled into a ball and buried his head in Joe's chest, Joe forced himself to keep his eyes closed knowing full well that Riley only waited until he was asleep because he didn't want to be seen._

_Minutes passed with the two of them like this and Joe risked a peek as Riley's breathing became slower and more relaxed. The kid had been crying, his eyes big, red and puffy and Joe's thoughts went to what Dr. Sewell had said about Riley that day._

_Annie hadn't been allowed to listen as she was thought too young and somebody needed to keep Riley occupied but Joe was considered old enough._

'_Whatever it is that happened during his…while he was missing, has terrified him to such a level that at any memory of what happened he regresses to the age of six.' She'd said. 'He is left feeling completely helpless and alone. And I assume that he must be having nightmares about his ordeal which are obviously traumatising for him.'_

_This meant that every time he was asked about it by the police or people supposedly trying to help him, they were just making things worse; causing the kid nightmares. Joe hadn't had nightmares since he was little but he remembered how scary they could be; poor Riley._

_Instinctively his arms reached around his brother as he thought this and pulled the kid closer into his chest. Unfortunately the motion disturbed Riley and he jerked awake with a cry. Joe squeezed him reassuringly, keeping his eyes closed so maybe Riley would think he was only moving in his sleep and relax again._

_No such luck. There were a few whimpers and Riley shook a little as he cried quietly, his tears soaking the front of Joe's top as his face pushed further into it, but he eventually did settle, his breathing becoming even and deeper as he fell asleep again._

_It was at that moment that Joe made a secret vow and he had every intention of keeping it._

_No one was _ever_ going to hurt Riley again if he could help it._

* * *

Ben watched Riley smile as he pulled out of the embrace with his brother. The kid was probably feeling a lot better after their 'private' chat last night.

Unbeknownst to them, Ben had heard more or less every word of it as he was dozing on the couch; Riley had made more noise than he'd thought shuffling around in the cupboard.

The historian hadn't wanted to invade in on the boys' family talk and he was sure that if he hadn't been there earlier they would have said all of it then. Him interrupting would only have ruined it for everyone; after all, he'd managed to learn a bit more about Riley; the kid had a niece and nephew, a very loving brother and sister, and, it would seem...a history of nightmares.

This morning Ben had awoken to find Riley sprawled out on the floor of the living room much like he'd been when Ben went to sleep, and when the kid got up he was all ready to get going. Joe had insisted they could stay another night if they wanted but Riley was raring to go and stood beside Ben's car while he said goodbye to his older brother.

"Don't be a stranger." Joe said patting Riley on the shoulder. Riley reached up and put his own hand onto his brother's.

"I promise." Never before had the boy looked so happy; the smile was in threat of jumping off his face now. "Ben?" he held his hand out and Ben placed his car keys in the boy's outstretched hand. It seemed Riley had forgiven him finding the article for now and there was no way Ben was going to jeopardise the temporary truce they had going.

"It was nice meeting you, Joe." He shook the guy's hand as Riley climbed into the drivers seat. It really had been an enjoyable experience; Ben didn't know there were other Pooles in the world.

As Ben went to let go of Joe's hand and walk to the passenger's side Joe's grip on his hand increased. Ben's brow furrowed. "Joe?"

"You're responsible for him." Joe's mouth was a thin line and his eyes were serious. Ben's eyes flicked to Riley who was turning on the radio, oblivious to what was happening. "I nearly lost my brother after what happened." His stance was menacing; he wasn't trying to intimidate Ben; he was stating fact. "If Riley gets hurt, emotional or physically, it's all your fault." Ben made no attempt to say it _was _his fault. "And if that happens, I will break your nose. D'you understand?"

Ben nodded and Joe let go of his hand. His demeanour changed instantly.

"Good to meet you too, Ben." He waved as the older man climbed into the front seat.

Once they were on the road again, Ben turned to Riley. "Where are we going, now?"

"Joe gave me the address of Mrs. Eveston's old house." He rummaged around in his pockets before pulling out a small piece of paper and giving it to Ben. "I was thinking we would check out the local area."

Ben nodded but Riley didn't take his eyes off the road. The kid didn't seem as happy about this situation as he had with Joe. The smile had gone and his fingers were gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles were starting to go white.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Riley still didn't look at Ben. "We can just turn around right now if you really want." The kid shook his head.

"Too late now." He shifted his hands on the wheel as they turned a corner, the white knuckles disappearing. "Past the point of no return." It was a murmur and Ben barely heard it over the radio which was playing some song or other.

His mind flashed back to Joe's words.

'_If Riley gets hurt…it's all your fault.'_

Riley wasn't going to get hurt; alright so this trip wasn't going to be a bed of roses, for sure, but whatever they found, it happened a long time ago and Riley could deal with it and move on. And every step of the way, as long as Riley was sure he wanted to do this, Ben would be there to help him. Nothing would happen to Riley.

'_if that happens, I will break your nose.'_

Ben shivered. The exchange was a fair trade-off; and if the look in Joe's eyes was anything to go by, he'd be lucky to get away with only his nose broken.


	4. House of Hell

**Disclaimer:** Look I don't own it. I don't have time for this!! Read the story! It's obvious from all the badness that the lovely Disney movies ain't mine! Honestly!

**A/N:** I do believe this is the fastest update I have ever done but it all just kept flowing out so easily and there was no way I could leave it to stew for twenty-four hours so some of you are coming on to two updates. Now aren't you lucky. This chapter may have been easier because I wanted start the angst and I was watching Bringing Out The Dead last night which is so goddam angsty it was probably inspiring for some of the stuff which I wanted done. If you do get to see it (it's probably an R or whatever the equivalent of 18 is wherever you are) it is absolutely amazing and it stars Nicolas Cage so… Anyway, this chapter starts on the middle/main part of the drama so let me know how I've done. We're about one third of the way through the whole thing now so no worries bout wrapping up too early. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and/or faved and/or alerted, please keep it up as I do consider all suggestions. Also check out the poll on my profile if you haven't already regarding the ending of this fic. I wasn't on a sugar rush while doing this chapter but I am still pretty proud of what I've done but let me have it. Don't sugar-coat it. If I'm rubbish at some point, _do _tell me so I can sort it out cus this is THE important chapter. And yes it's another Mika song but this song gave me the idea of the whole song thing so it stays. I think that's everything. Yeah, so…I gotta go now so I can post this. Laters. ¦D

**Chapter Four: House of Hell**

**Song:** Relax (Take It Easy) by Mika

_

* * *

_

_Whoever it was who said 'the only thing to fear is fear itself' obviously had a nice sheltered childhood… And I envy them. – Anon._

* * *

Riley Junior.

Just thinking the name made him grin stupidly. It was like he'd made his own mark on the world.

He'd not forgotten his family; he'd just got busy… The reason he never contacted them, before the two treasures that is, was that he was worried they wouldn't want to know him anymore. That if he turned up on their doorstep they'd treat him like a complete stranger, someone they didn't want in their lives and that they'd shun. Not only had he been wrong, the truth was the complete opposite; Annie had named her kid after him.

They still remembered him.

He and Ben never made it to Mrs. Eveston's house.

They were two, maybe three, blocks away, talking easily; light banter with the radio on quietly. They'd both slept well and were discussing the guys who had been at Joe's apartment the night before.

They were your typical jock-type characters; thick necks, big muscles and no brain cells. It was likely they were watching the football when Joe had turned off the telly and the two friends laughed as they remembered the reaction the jocks had given.

Riley saw something; it was a small something, just out the corner of his eye on the other side of Ben, but it smashed him in the chest and he slammed the breaks so hard that if Ben hadn't been wearing his seatbelt he would've gone straight through the front windscreen. Thing is, Riley didn't have his on.

"Riley!" Ben sounded furious and was probably going to have a go at him about proper driving techniques.

Head was throbbing like hell and something wet was making his hair stick together. Blood no doubt. Some of it trickled down his face. Riley curled up into the steering wheel for a moment gritting his teeth against the pain, trying to hide his small injury from Ben. If the historian saw it he'd just get all concerned over it and Riley just needed a bit of time to absorb what he'd just seen.

"What the _hell_ Riley?"

Ears were ringing; never a good sign. He'd get over it soon though; at least he hoped so.

"Are you _trying _to get us killed?"

His head hurt, his face was wet, his ears were ringing and Ben was already starting to have a go at him. The rapidly developing headache was adding to the pain and Ben's shouts were only making it worse. Riley couldn't take it and fumbled for the handle, slamming the car door behind him as he got out.

"Riley?"

It was a quiet street; a little out of the way of busy roads with few houses and barely any other cars that were parked on the driveways. It wasn't a bad neighbourhood by the looks of it. Some people could have taken better care of their lawns or the front of their houses but other than that it was quiet, clean and an all round good place.

Two steps after he got out, Riley sank to the street in front of the car, his back to what had made him stop.

It was all too familiar. It hurt.

"Riley."

There was a slam as Ben got out the car.

Head was still throbbing so he placed it between his knees and reached round it so it was cradled in his arms. A pretty bad knock to the head but nothing too bad since he had been braced for impact. It still hurt and Ben would only make a fuss if he saw.

Riley needed time to think.

"Riley."

A hand was set on his shoulder but Riley didn't look up as the historian knelt down beside him; mind stuck in a blurry event from fourteen years ago.

_

* * *

_

He was running.

_Running._

_His ankle was screaming at him; begging for him to stop and he stumbled more than once as he hurried to get away._

_Barely noticing the dead grass scratching on his bare foot each time he thumped down on it, he kept running._

_He wasn't running very fast; didn't feel like he was running at all, more struggling to run through jello like it would sometimes feel in his dreams._

_There'd be someone there and he'd run towards them but he could never run fast enough. Just when he felt like he couldn't take the stress of it anymore he would wake up._

_But this wasn't a dream._

_Wasn't even a nightmare._

_He was hobbling._

_Screaming ankle, teary eyes, broken spirit._

_There was a rough hand grabbed his arm._

_Painful grip._

_Bloodied hand._

"_D'you see what I did?" Growling voice. Alcoholic breath. Painful grip. "I'll do it t'you too!"_

_Shaking body, tear-strewn face, useless struggle._

_Pain. Unbearable pain._

_Fear._

_He hadn't even made it half way across the lawn._

_Head hurts. Throbbing. Hurting._

_Blood clumping his hair together._

_Ankle screaming._

_Huge hand grabbing at his throat, lifting him up and throwing him down. Choking on his own breath. Sore throat hurting._

_He wants to sleep. Allow the darkness to take him._

_Strangled sobs. Screaming limbs. Running out of oxygen._

_A slurred shout then a burst of pain as he's punched._

_There's a gap in the hedge, he can see it. Small; he can't be followed._

_He _won't _be followed. The hole's too small for the big man._

_But it's six feet away. And he's trapped. And he's in pain. And he wants to go home. And he wants to die._

_More beating. More pain._

_Throbbing ankle, aching head, screaming stomach, approaching darkness, falling tears, fear, pain, terror, loneliness._

_Why couldn't he rest? Why wouldn't it stop?_

_Why wouldn't it just go away? Why didn't it __**all**__ just go away?_

_Why didn't it end?_

_A name._

_Just one name._

_That name was key to everything._

_It was the reason he's running._

_It was the reason he dived for the hedge._

* * *

But he can't remember it now.

The hedge must be dead because in those fourteen years it hadn't grown back over the hole. It was the hole that had made him stop.

"God's sake Riley!" Concern or anger? It was difficult to tell through the throbbing of his head. "Tell me what is going on!"

Riley slowly raised his head out of his arms. There were tears in his eyes.

"Geez, Riley!" Ben's hand shot to where his head was throbbing the most. When he pulled back there was a lot "I _told_ you to put your seatbelt on." The pressure made it worse but Riley barely noticed.

His chest was tightening, compressing; breathing was difficult and every time he took in a shaky breath it was bordering on the edge of turning into a sob. He'd been so scared; so terrified; and it was coming back now. All the fear, the horror.

Just because he saw that stupid hole in the hedge.

"It's not that bad." Ben really was a terrible liar. It didn't feel 'not that bad'. It didn't feel 'not that bad' at all. The throbbing in his head had quickly been joined by a rising nausea in his stomach. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Riley slapped Ben's hand away before he buried his head in his knees again. He needed to think.

There was a few moments silence broken only by Riley's half-sobs as he focused on his breathing.

"Riley." Ben's voice was calm, filled with concern. "Why did you stop?"

There was no answer. What could he say?

"Riley, look at me." Riley raised his head reluctantly. Ben was going to say it again, wasn't he? "You _really _don't have to do this." If Riley had a penny for every time Ben had said that since they'd started out he'd have…well actually he'd probably have a quarter but the point was the statement was fast becoming obsolete. "If you want we can get back in the car and go home." He couldn't; not anymore. "We can forget about the article and all of this. I'll burn it."

He wiped his eyes with his hands as he shook his head.

"We can't Ben." His voice was steadier than he felt. "_I_ can't." he took in another shaky breath before indicating the house that had the hole in the hedge. "I think that's where I was."

Ben turned to look at the house Riley had pointed at.

There was a hedge running around the entire perimeter of the front yard, broken only by a thin rickety gate that was hanging off it's hinges.

"Are you sure?"

"We're about…two blocks from Mrs. Eveston's right?" The far right side of Riley's face was covered in blood pouring from the cut just below his hairline and Ben struggled to keep his eyes on the kid's face. "Joe said I had a broken ankle right?" Ben nodded. "I'd be surprised if I managed to get further than that on a broken ankle."

"Two blocks on a broken ankle…" Ben's voice trailed off as his eyes flicked to the side of Riley's face again.

"If there's enough adrenaline-" Riley flinched as Ben brushed a finger against the head wound again. "Ben, leave it!"

"I was wrong. It isn't not that bad." He stopped when Riley grabbed his fingers and threw them away. "We really ought to take you to the hospital."

"Do you have a flashlight?" he sounded agitated, desperate to change the subject.

"You could have a concussion."

"I'm fine!" To prove his point the boy stood up quickly but nearly fell back down again.

Ben caught his arm and steadied him. Once he was stood Riley pulled his arm away.

"See. Fine. Flashlight?"

* * *

"I'm gonna be right here Riley."

"Ben, I swear if you say that again I am gonna hit you round the head with this." He held out his hand that was holding the flashlight.

What was he doing?

He'd been trapped in this God-forsaken house for twenty-six days, supposedly, and here he was creeping through the yard fourteen years after he escaped whatever horror had happened.

Every part of him was screaming at him to run, to run far, far away and never ever come back. Well every part except his head which was just screaming. He raised his hand to feel the cut again and winced. It was quite painful now but Ben had said the bleeding had stopped which was something.

Dead grass filled the lawn, squashed down in some places where someone had either rolled…or been thrown. Riley turned away, focusing instead on the building. The house didn't look too bad; peeling paint on the walls and a slightly dilapidated front porch but nothing too bad, nothing that set off other memories.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Riley?"

The kid laughed. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. When they were stealing the Declaration of Independence, Riley had gone to say the same thing but got cut off when Ben slammed the van door on him and his doubts. Unfortunately Riley didn't really have a van door to slam to show he knew what he was doing so he just had to settle with ignoring his friend.

Then again, there was a part of him that wasn't so sure about this. A cold wind blew across the front yard going right through Riley's flimsy hoody and he wished he'd chosen something a bit more practical.

The whole setting was mysterious and unnerving but Riley slowly strode toward the building. The tone, the wind, the nature of their visit; it was like something out of one of those weird horror novels Abigail liked to read.

Abigail was weird when it came to horror, she didn't read Stephen King like many other self-respecting horror fans would; she read these obscure paranormal romances. The local bookstore had a whole section for it and the disease had already spread onto online book stores. Riley sighed. Was nothing sacred anymore?

The door was a faded green with most of the paint having come off in most places and a great contrast to the brown walls. It had probably been a nice place before it fell into disrepair over the years.

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever."

"What?"

"John Keats." he looked to Ben. "Annie was slightly obsessed with him as teenager."

"Oh." Ben nodded.

The handle was hanging from the door so Riley just pushed it open. There was a grinding creak as it opened revealing the stairs leading up from opposite the door.

Wooden and splintered they too were beyond salvation even if they were to get in the most skilled carpenter in the whole USA. One stair, half way up, was cracked in half with jagged edges sticking menacingly into the air.

"What now?" Riley jumped having momentarily forgotten that Ben was stood just behind him.

"We…explore."

He gripped the flashlight harder. They didn't need it really; plenty of light was spilling in through the windows which were still somehow intact despite everything else seemingly being broken beyond repair.

Through the empty doorframe on the right there was a dirty room with faded yellow walls which was most likely what passed for a kitchen in this shit-shack while the one on the left led into a room with a few broken pieces of furniture; probably some sort of living room. Neither one seemed to lead to anywhere appealing.

"Riley?" he rolled his eyes. He was tempted to tell Ben to wait outside if he was gonna keep trying to rush him when he saw a red patch on the wall through the door on the right. His stomach rolled.

"This way."

Stepping through into the kitchen there was a distinct smell of rot and mould. It was disgusting and laced with the stench of something worse that Riley couldn't name or place.

Across from the window that looked out onto the front yard there was a small square table with an old bowl of fruit on it. I use the term 'bowl of fruit' in the lightest sense of the word as it was more a pile of green mush that was sinking into itself than apples or bananas or something else like that. One sniff revealed that this was where the rotting smell was coming from.

Riley covered his mouth and nose with his free hand as he walked further in.

It seemed to be more of a kitchen/dining area which was more dining area than it was kitchen; open plan with a sort of breakfast bar separating the two except for a small entrance through the side of the kitchen.

There were no utensils or cooking instruments around, no cutlery or anything to show any signs of life having been around here lately.

"_What are you doing out here?"_

Riley turned. Ben was closer investigating the 'bowl of fruit', wrinkling his nose at the unbearable smell. He hadn't said anything.

"_I told you."_

The voice was wavering; distant. It was coming from the direction of the window; but no one was there.

"_I told you what would happen!"_

_It was the big man. The one who had taken him; who'd grabbed him and tried to stop him getting away fourteen years ago. And Riley was thirteen years old again looking up at him in fear._

"_Ungrateful little brat!"_

_He'd been trying to get away but he'd been caught._

_He strode forward menacingly and grabbed for Riley's throat smashing his head back against the breakfast bar._

"_No one cares about you!"_

_Smash!_

_His head was throbbing, his vision swimming. He'd been so close. He could have got out and ran home._

"_You're mine!"_

_Smash!_

"Riley!" Ben's voice brought him smashing back to the present. "Riley!"

He blinked.

He wasn't thirteen. He wasn't trapped. He was here with Ben. In the same place but by his own choice.

Ben's hand was gripping his shoulder and his eyes were on Riley's face.

"Riley!"

"Yeah." His eyes didn't leave the window. "What happened?"

"You started whimpering." Ben seemed to relax a little as Riley responded but didn't remove his hand from Riley's shoulder. "I turned and you were backing away from the window, eyes glazed over and… I've been standing here for two minutes saying your name, Riley."

Riley blinked. "Right."

"You okay?" Riley breathed in and out deeply. "Flashback?"

The kid stepped forward away from the breakfast bar and turned. Sure enough there was a splattering of blood on edge of the kitchen top and Riley took a step back as he retched. It was still there.

This _was_ the place.

"It's alright." Ben grabbed both his shoulders and turned him away from it. "It's been fourteen years Riley."

Ben was right. It was in the past. It had happened. It was gone. History.

He paused.

History. Ironic.

"Riley, look at me." Riley looked into Ben's eyes and saw his friend's worry in them even though not an ounce of it showed on his face. "Are you sure this is what you want?" The historian's eyes searched his own looking for the slightest indication that he wanted to leave like right now.

Truth was that Riley did want to go; he wanted to leave this all behind him but there hadn't been anything too traumatising so far; bashes to the head, attacks and physical abuse but nothing that explained the nagging feeling at the back of Riley's head that there was something bigger, something worse. If he left it now he'd be plagued by nightmares for months, maybe years, and he'd have no idea why.

There was no turning back now.

So Riley nodded his head.

"Tell me." Ben looked determinedly at him. "Say 'Ben this is what I want'."

Riley sighed. Ben was probably worried that he was temporarily traumatised into silence much like his own back at Mount Rushmore.

"Ben!" Riley looked him back in the eyes as he shrugged of his friend's arms. "This is what I want. That good enough for you."

His tense shoulders didn't relax and he didn't smile but Ben nodded. "If that's what you want."

"It is."

"So what now?" Ben was trying to be the voice of reason and in all honesty he was doing it very well. They couldn't very well look randomly around the house and hope for the best.

Everything that had happened in this house was in his mind. He was the only one who knew so they were going to have to rely on his memory for their direction. Both of them wanted out of there as soon as possible.

"Give me a minute." Riley closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

* * *

"_You're mine!"_

_Smash!_

_His head was reeling but he couldn't fall asleep. There was something keeping him awake._

"_I'll teach you!"_

_The man grabbed at his ankle and dragged him along the floor._

_Riley was helpless as a ragdoll to stop him and didn't have the energy to struggle any more. The combination of no food or drink or exposure to fresh air was building up. He didn't know how long he'd been there; he was kept in the dark; literally. Sleep, that was how he measured time at the moment._

_He'd fallen asleep in the dark dank eight or nine times but he always woke up more tired than before and was easily growing less willing to try and escape._

_The floor scraped beneath his back as Riley was dragged along. Blurry visions of the ceiling moved in front of his eyes before there was the sound of a door being unlocked and then opened._

_The grip on his ankle twisted and he was thrown into the darkness and down what felt like a flight of stairs before he landed at the bottom. His ankle was screaming and head was throbbing._

_Creaking sounds signalled that the man was following him down the stairs._

_The front of Riley's shirt was pulled and he was dragged to a standing position. No images managed to make sense before his eyes but he could smell the alcohol still lingering on his breath._

"_Try something like that again smart-ass and I'll kill you."_

_He was thrown to the floor again where he didn't move. No energy._

"_You'd do well to stop him next time."_

_Creaking and then he was gone._

* * *

"What is it Riley?" Ben looked at him with concern. Riley didn't blame him; he'd felt all the colour drain from his face as it happened.

Riley turned tentatively towards the door beside the table catching one tear before it poured down his cheek.

He'd overlooked it when they first came in, it was just a door, but something in his gut told him that that was the door that held all the answers.

"I don't know. But whatever it is…" Ben followed his gaze across the room. "…it's behind that door."


	5. In The Basement

**Disclaimer:** I'm not inventive enough to come up with National Treasure. Sure I can quote the clues word for word without a prompt when asked but there's no way I could ever have thought them up. I know zip about American history.

**A/N:** Hang on. Weren't we here before? I did it again! One day chapter! I'm fairly happy with this but I gotta apologise for the fact that I probs won't update again until Thursday or Saturday and this finishes with the worst cliff-hanger yet, at least in my opinion. I would also like to reiterate the fact that I do love Riley, like a lot, and I'm not doing this to him because I hate him or because I'm a bitch but because…well actually I don't know why exactly but you all seem to like it so it's as much your fault as it is mine! Gonna have to throw a thank you out to Emeline for putting up with my long-winded explanation of my plan for this fic during our English lessons. She was really supportive even though for the most part she didn't know what I was talking about because she still hasn't finished Three Sides! Grr! Nah take your time girl. Reviews are good and I've already had one telling me I've watched too many horror movies which I disagree with but meh. You think I was disturbed before? Just you wait…

**Chapter Five: In The Basement**

**Song:** The Trick to Life by The Hoosiers

_

* * *

_

Don't open that Trap Door! 'Cause there's something down there. – The Trap Door

* * *

There was a key in the door. It was a dull gold colour and the handle was looped in an intricate design that was both gothic yet sort of ethereal.

It was an ominous key in an ominous door but the door wasn't like the key. The door was just a door.

There had to be about a million doors like it in America, probably well over a billion in the world. It wasn't the only door.

But somehow, Riley couldn't convince himself of that.

Beyond that door there was something so unbelievably terrifying that, even though he couldn't remember it, the unnamed thing was enough to make him pause.

"Say a word Ben and I _will _hit you." the historian shut his mouth which he'd opened to reiterate his little 'you don't have to do this' speech. "I just need a moment, kay?"

He'd pushed Ben out of the way of the door and Ben hadn't stopped him. He was stood just over Riley's shoulder though, practically breathing down his neck and Riley wasn't sure if that annoyed him or reassured him. Probably both.

The doorknob was overused, the golden tint worn away and ruined by a rough hand grabbing it over and over again.

Probably the second one.

The door was locked. Most likely had been for years, keeping something in.

_Keeping someone out._

Riley shook his head. He needed to focus right now. This was a big thing.

The extra undefined smell was stronger by the door and infinitely more repulsive. Riley's hands shot up to his face, covering his mouth and nose. So not something he wanted to smell.

Fingers clasping round the key, he turned it in the lock until there was an echoing click that resounded round the empty house.

"Ben!" the historian took his hand off Riley's shoulder where it had rested momentarily.

"I'm just…"

"I know. Just…leave it."

The doorknob was cold as ice as he turned it, the door jammed; it was reluctant to open.

_Could be a sign to leave it alone._

He pulled harder and there was a crack as it jerked out the doorframe.

"Argh!"

"Oh God!"

Whatever it was that was making the bad smell was somewhere beyond this door because the stench intensified tenfold and a new wave of sickening repulsion doubled Riley over as it hit him. It was foul and part of him wanted to believe this was what was terrifying him so he could just turn away now and leave it well alone. But a larger, more insistent part of him was compelling him to go forward, convincing him to ignore Ben's cries of disgust and his own nausea and push forward into the dark space beyond.

Thank God for the flashlight.

It was one of those hi-beam ones which had a powerful light. He shone it into the darkness behind the door and it didn't go even two feet further. A wooden wall was opposite the door.

A cupboard.

A cupboard?

Was that it?

That couldn't be it.

There had to be something more to it.

He took a step inside trying, and for the most part failing, to block out the stink. It couldn't just be a cupboard; the smell alone was proof enough of that. He turned to the right and then the left shining the light before him. On the left it hit a downward sloping ceiling.

"A stairway." He nodded to himself. "Hey Be-!"

"Shine the light over here." Ben was crouched beside the door looking in, was it horror?, at the side that had been facing inwards.

Riley resisted rolling his eyes; trust Ben to be looking for something to distract him from the bigger picture.

"Ben I found some sta-"

"Shine the light over here!" Ben was insistent pointing at the bottom panel.

Riley actually rolled his eyes this time but shone the light at the door.

"That better, your majes-?" his voice died in his throat as he saw the long, deep scratches etched into the wood. "Shit!"

He fell to his knees by the door and ran his fingers along the grooves. They were a perfect fit, slotting into the pits with ease. There was dried blood in each one.

He didn't notice Ben's hand on his shoulder.

* * *

"_Please!" his body shook as he tried not to sob. "Please! No!"_

_The wood dug into the tender flesh of the tips of his fingers now that he'd worn away his nails on them. Each of them was cracked and throbbing with pain as he sat next to the door but he was so scared and he wanted to go home._

"_Please!"_

_No one could hear his shouts. The front door had slammed over two hours ago but he couldn't not…he had to…_

"_Please!" he screamed it in a long, loud wail. "I wanna go home! I just wanna go home!"_

_There wasn't a sound except for a steady drip, drip, drip down in the darkness. His leg was sore, his body aching and his fingers bleeding. He'd lost his rucksack, his clean clothes. Mom was gonna be angry when he got home._

"_Please!" his fist smashed into the wood making the whole staircase he was sat on shake but nothing else happened. "Please!"_

_He wanted to shout something else so he wouldn't sound so pathetic but there was nothing else he could say._

_The shouts stopped after his throat became sore and hours…or was it minutes…passed by before he thought of something else._

"_Did I do something wrong?"_

_Silence._

"_If I did…If I did something that I shouldn't have…I'm sorry!"_

_Nothing._

"_I didn't mean to!"_

* * *

"Riley."

"Not a word, Ben."

* * *

"There's some stairs over…here." Ben looked behind the kid.

"You wanna go down them?"

"No." Riley's eyes were still sort of distant. That had been happening way too much since this morning.

Thing was, each time it happened, Riley wasn't explaining what he was remembering and leaving Ben in the dark. He wanted to be there for the kid but how could he help if he didn't know what was going wrong?

Riley stood up and wandered over to the edge of the stairs. Stubborn kid.

"You coming?" he was turned so he was talking over his shoulder at Ben, face wide in a smile. He couldn't hide his hunched up stance though and the lack of smile in his eyes.

"You don't want to take a minute?"

"Now or never, Ben." Riley shrugged.

Never; that would have been Ben's choice.

"I just want it known that I think this is a very bad idea."

* * *

"The lights don't work." Riley heard Ben flip the switch a couple more times, just for good measure.

"No. That would just be helpful."

The smell was overwhelming stepping down into the basement.

That's what it was; beneath the house with its wooden steps, dripping pipes and all of it in the dank and the dark.

Nothing was down there; no scurrying rodents' feet, no mewling trapped cat, nothing; almost as though animals avoided this place. Not the most comforting thought when you're entering said place.

Creaking wood under Riley's feet didn't settle his nerves in any way and he focused on the sound of Ben following close behind him. It was all he could do to keep from imagining what would happen if one of the stairs went the way of the menacing step on the stairway opposite the front door.

The temperature was falling with each step further into the blackness and Riley put his arm around his front in an attempt to warm up.

Maybe it was a wine cellar; those places were supposed to be quite cold, right? No such luck. The beam of the flashlight crossed the wall at the bottom of the steps and there wasn't any sign of those wine racks that people used to store it.

Why did people store wine anyway? Why didn't they just drink it? That's what it's there for, so why put it away for years and bring it out only when you have someone around for the first time since you actually bought the wine? He'd asked Ben once who'd said something about letting it mature or something like that. Wait…that may have been when he'd asked something similar about cheese.

The short digression didn't work at taking his mind off the foul smell that was worsening with every step. What on earth could cause a smell like that?

Momentarily taking his hand from his mouth he grabbed at the front of his hoody lifting the neck part until it covered his nose. It did nothing to lessen the stench.

"What the hell is that?" he turned to Ben who had a handkerchief over his mouth.

"I don't know." He shook his head. It looked like his eyes were watering at the thought of the possibilities. "Riley I _really-_"

Riley turned away. He was so close; he could feel it; hell maybe it was behind the smell.

He would have laughed but the smell was terrible and he had a niggling feeling he was right.

Stepping down onto the concrete floor was not fun, the cold seeping straight through his high-tops and embedding itself deep into his feet. Hopping gently from foot to foot in an attempt to warm up he glanced around swinging the flashlight as he turned.

Nothing; I mean a few spatters of blood here or there but nothing really shouting out 'I'm what you're looking for, now go get on with your life Riley.'

"I should've brought the other flashlight." Ben was looking to but not in the same places as Riley. Well Ben if you weren't going to think ahead…

Riley ran the flashlight over the small room again. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"I don't think we're going to find anything, Riley."

Just as Riley was turning to agree with him the beam passed over something in the far corner.

"We should just get out of here."

He took a step towards it, his heart thumping in his ears like a drum; he couldn't see it clearly but he had a feeling that this was it.

Something in the corner, tucked away under the stairs, long forgotten to the darker regions of time. He shook his head. This wasn't the time to be going all sci-fi freak on what was happening; no matter how much more at ease it made him feel.

"Come on, Riley."

There was a shuffling behind him as Ben moved to leave but Riley wasn't paying it any attention. This was it.

He raised the flashlight so the beam was shining on it, throwing it into plain view for him.

And his heart stopped.

* * *

"_Please."_

_Riley whimpered as he was kicked in the stomach for the sixth time today. He stomach heaved, bringing up nothing but a tiny amount of stomach acid which burned at the inside of his throat and mouth._

_He hadn't eaten in so long, hadn't left that small room in so long. He'd just wanted to see the sunlight, just for a second. The big man was supposed to leave during the day for hours at a time leaving the both of them in the dark room lit by a flickering light bulb with no guard or anything to keep them inside except the locked door. It was only going to be for a moment but the man hadn't left; and he'd been caught_

"_L-leave h-him alone." The voice was too quiet to hold any merit, too small to sound at all serious but it was loud enough to stop his next kick mid-swing._

"_What's that!" he turned his attention to the quivering brown-haired kid in the corner._

'_No.' Riley thought weakly._

"_I-I said…l-leave him alone." He didn't shrink away as the menacing monster marched slowly over to him breathing in deeply through his nose._

"_And what if I don't?"_

_Riley wanted to move, to jump up and get the attention back onto him anything to stop the man hurting Tommy; he didn't care what the kid said, Riley knew he wasn't beneath beating him up._

"_What…if…I…don't?"_

_Riley couldn't see past the monster man but he tensed several of his muscles in an attempt to stand up and get between the man and his friend but he didn't have the energy to even raise his head right now._

_Tommy started making choking noises and screwed his eyes shut._

_He didn't want to see this. He wanted to be home. He wanted to be gone. He wanted to anywhere other than here but all closing his eyes did was allow him to imagine the life being throttled out of the kid._

"_I should've left you with your mother." The last word was spat, just like it always was and Riley could almost see the spit covering the kid's face._

_Thwack!_

_Riley brought his hands up to his ears. He didn't want to hear it either._

_Twack!_

_It was just another beating. He kept saying that over and over to himself._

_It's just another beating._

_Thwack!_

_It's just another beating._

_Thwack!_

_It's just another beating._

_Thwa-Crunch!_

…

_The silence that followed was deafening._

_Riley slowly opened one eye, barely a crack and peering through his eyelashes._

_The man was kneeling on the floor where he'd been towering over Tommy before but Riley couldn't see the boy._

_Quiet sobs seemed to shake his whole body as he knelt. An uneasy feeling rose in Riley's chest._

_Why had the noise stopped? Where was Tommy?_

_All his body shouted at him to stop as he manoeuvred himself up into a sitting position._

_It was too quiet. Tommy didn't like the quiet, even when quiet was the only option._

_His legs screamed at him and his ankle throbbed with stabbing pain as he pushed himself up until he was standing up._

"_T-Tommy?" his voice was so quiet that he barely heard it himself but the man heard it and turned round towards him._

_If he hadn't had a hand on the wall to keep himself steady on his aching legs he would have fallen down._

_Tommy was lain out on the floor, his eyes wide in horror and a large pool of blood amassing around a large cut on his head. He wasn't moving._

_Riley's chest tightened and tears poured down his cheeks as he realised what had happened._

_Tommy was dead._

"_You!" the man bellowed, slowly rising to his feet. "You made me do this!"_

_Riley had told him. He'd said that the man would hurt Tommy no matter what the boy believed to the contrary but now Tommy was dead; and by the looks of it he was next._

"_I should've just killed you to being with." The man's eyes were flaring with anger as he took his first step towards Riley._

_He hobbled for the stairs nearly tripping over his own feet several times before he reached the bottom. He used his hands to pull himself up them quickly getting to the door in no time._

_It was wide open, the man didn't see the need to shut it when he was in the room; they wouldn't dare try anything with him around._

_That was before what had happened._

_Tommy was dead._

_Riley wasn't; and he intended to keep it that way for as long as possible._

* * *

Ben stopped with one foot on the bottom step of the rickety staircase.

"Come on, Riley."

When there was no reply he turned to see where the flashlight beam was.

"Riley."

He took his foot of the step and headed over to the corner where he was knelt down on the floor looking at something.

"Come on!" The kid's eyes were glazed over again and his shoulders were unbelievably tensed up when Ben gripped them. "Riley! What is it?"

The kid didn't move, not even when Ben knelt in front of him and looked him in the eyes.

"Riley!" Nothing. "Riley!"

His eyes were still looking straight through Ben, almost as if he wasn't there, as if nothing was there but whatever it was Riley was seeing play out in his mind's eye.

Ben shook him by the shoulders but still there was no response.

"Goddamit Riley! Look at me!" Riley didn't hear him his eyes still clouded over as he stared at whatever it was behind him.

Curiosity got the better of him and Ben turned to see what it was Riley had found that had made him like this.

"Oh God!"

The source of the unbearable stench, a bundle of thinning hairs and rotting flesh covered in years old dried blood, was the body of young boy stuffed, unceremoniously, underneath the wooden stairs, arms sticking out at odd angles and one ankle sticking out into the room.


	6. Tommy

**Disclaimer:** Look I really don't have time for this so if you want a disclaimer then just pick one of the ones I picked in my previous chapters.

**A/N: **I don't have much time for this if I wanna update but I'll just tell you that I'm sorry for the long update wait but the world hasn't let me forget about this: I passed three companies with Shaw in their name on the bus yesterday and there was a piece on the telly about a poet called Shaw and his wife called Charlotte and today while talking about the Rich List my friend said "Oh yeah. Ben Gates is number two." When she actually meant Bill Gates but I couldn't help but laugh at it. Anyway, thanks to the regulars and the newbies and readers and reviewers and blah blah blah, so on and so forth. I really gotta go or this won't be posted. ¦P

P.S. Just in case you're worried at the end of this chapter, there's still seven more left. That intrigued ya, right? ¦D

**Chapter Six: Tommy**

**Song:** I'm With You by Avril Lavigne

_

* * *

_

There's just one problem when playing with fire; eventually someone's going to get burnt. – Anon.

_

* * *

_

Every single bone in Riley's body felt on fire as he lay on the cold, hard floor.

_He wanted to move but could do nothing but lie there letting his limbs cry out in agony. He'd been thrown down here; or at least from the feel of sore bruises he had. It was easier and more comfortable just to lay there; moving, even a little bit, just made it hurt more, sending twinges of pain through his aching limbs._

_There was something squeaking in the corner. Probably a mouse. Or a rat. It didn't bother him; in fact it was somewhat reassuring to know he wasn't strictly alone._

_Matt, one of his mates from school, had a rat called Toby and sometimes, when Riley'd get invited over, they'd just sit and watch the rodent scurry across Matt's desk or attempt to burrow into the family's laundry pile. This rat just made a small scrabbling noise in the corner. It was probably eating something._

_There was a muffled noise coming from the other side of the door at the top of the rickety stairs that he'd been thrown down. He paid it no attention; it was too quiet and he couldn't hear it. It was being drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears and the occasional cuss-word coming from his mouth. He'd overheard Joe using them when he was on the phone with his 'grown up' friends. Boy was Riley's mom and dad going to be pissed if they ever heard him using them._

_But the kid felt fairly sure that the occasion, the pain and the confusion called for some colourful language._

* * *

Riley took several steps back until he hit the wall behind him, unable to take his eyes off the corpse until it became too much.

Ben heard a retching sound as the kid bent double and threw up onto the floor.

"Ben. I changed my mind. This isn't what I want."

The distant look hadn't left his eyes; his voice was cracked and haunted, it almost sounded forced; his breath kept catching signalling that he was likely to have a panic attack at any moment. The flashlight was still grasped in his hand and cast a shaking light against the wall to his right.

Everything about the kid was screaming, 'Get me out of here!' and it was heartbreaking to see.

_

* * *

_

The guy had been unbelievably drunk, his breath reeking of alcohol as he smacked Riley across the face before kicking and punching any part of the kid he could reach with his fists and boots.

_No explanation, no apology, no words; just a couple of hard punches and swift kicks, probably just for the hell of it; dominance. That's why bullies did it right? Beat people up?_

_That's what the teachers and his parents told him. Bullies singled him out because he was easy prey and they wanted to feel better about their crappy little lives. Stupid. Riley wanted to feel better bout his rubbish existence but _he_ didn't pick on weaker kids, he ran away…and look where that got him. Thing is Riley didn't have a weaker kid to pick on; the Poole kid was bottom of the food chain at school. He was like a bully magnet._

_Was that what was happening here? Had he been singled out because…because…whatever reason he usually got singled out for?_

_Riley fell asleep curled up in the corner nursing his aches and pains. Several bootings to his chest had made his ribs unbelievably sore; they were probably bruised._

* * *

Ben didn't need telling twice but he could tell from Riley's ragged breathing and his hunched up figure that it wasn't going to be a simple case of walking out the door and leaving this behind. He was frozen, curled up by the wall, his eyes still clouded. Riley was gonna need more than a little persuasion to move from that position.

They were gonna have to take this slow; one step at a time.

He placed one of his hands on each of Riley's shoulders and straightened him up making sure his own body was blocking the boy's view of the corpse. He then made sure that Riley's eyes were looking into his, even if the boy didn't see him.

He didn't.

"Okay, Riley." His voice was calm. "You okay?"

Riley lowered his eyes but didn't say anything and Ben swallowed.

One step at a time.

"Okay." He slowly turned Riley towards the bottom of the stairs and draped his arm around the boy's shoulders making sure he couldn't see past Ben at all. "Come on."

_

* * *

_

_Nineteen times he'd fallen asleep._

_That's how he was telling how much time had passed; by the number of times he'd lost consciousness. Probably wasn't the best way though since the man kept bashing him in the head. Staying awake wasn't very easy when there was nothing to distract him and it was so much easier just to drift away when Riley's head was throbbing like it was now. _

"_Hello…?" He was teetering on the edge of consciousness when the small voice called from the top of the stairs. "Are you okay?" It wasn't the man, too small; he usually bellowed. "Are you…are you s-still alive?"_

_Riley managed to gather enough energy to groan._

_Why was he being asked _that _question?_

_Who asks a question like that?_

_It wasn't reassuring to have someone ask you if you're still alive; I don't know if you've ever been in this situation yourself but it made Riley think through what had just happened again; at least what he could remember of it. Had it been enough to possibly kill him?_

_There was a hand on his side and he flinched. Those boots had sure to left their mark on him. The hand withdrew straight away._

"_S-sorry." Sounded like a little boy. "You alright?"_

_Riley didn't move; that would just hurt more. Maybe if he laid still enough the kid would leave him alone._

_Wait! A kid...?_

_It was the first sign that his head was getting hit pretty hard; the fact that his brain had only just been able to process that he wasn't the only one in the room. Riley sighed._

_He just wanted to go home._

* * *

Riley's shoulders had started to shake beneath Ben's arm once they'd left the basement and the historian had tightened his grip round the boy to try and stop it.

His eyes were still distant and it was unnerving for Ben to try and calm him when he wasn't sure how much Riley was aware of him.

_

* * *

_

The kid's light brown hair was just coming down round his face quite messily like it hadn't been cut in a long while. Every single one of his ribs was sticking out of his chest and his arms and legs were bony. Riley felt both pity and fear looking at him, pity because he'd never before seen someone so thin in the flesh, or lack thereof, before; fear because every time he woke up he'd brush his hand against his own showing ribs. They weren't nearly as prominent as Tommy's, and practically non-existent compared to those ones you'd see in the papers when they talked of hunger in the third world, but he knew he hadn't been able to count his ribs before and have absolutely no doubt about the number of them.

_Riley was propped up against the wall; it wasn't too comfortable actually but it was easier to talk to the kid this way._

_The kid, whose name, it seemed, was Tommy, was sat next to him with his knees pulled up against his chest and a quiet smile on his face._

"_I don't see other kids."_

"_I'm not surprised." Riley breathed in deeply; his lungs were becoming easier to expand now that his chest wasn't so sore. "Your housemate treat all guests like this?" it was at a younger age than this that Riley had developed his coping mechanism of being sarcastic._

"_I told him to let you go." Tommy looked into Riley's eyes and he saw the kid was crying. "I begged him but he said no." He sniffed and wiped his nose with his already grubby sleeve. "He said you saw something you shouldn't. That you'd squeal."_

_Riley paused. He hadn't seen anything, had he? He didn't remember seeing anything. Then again he had been hit pretty hard round the head a fair few times._

"_I'm sorry." It was fast becoming every other phrase that came out Tommy's mouth._

"_You've got nothing to say sorry about." Tommy shook his head._

"_I do. It's all my fault." he buried his head in his knees. "My dad shouldn't be doing that to you." Riley furrowed his brow at him. "He should be doing it to me instead."_

"_Your _dad_?"_

* * *

They'd made it into the garden and Ben was trying not to keep looking at Riley.

He could see the car and was just thinking about how close it was, how close they were to leaving it all behind when he noticed the first tear coursing down the boy's cheek.

_

* * *

_

Tommy hadn't come down the stairs to see him in so long and his only human interaction was quickly becoming the increasingly-frequent beatings from the boy's dad.

_Maybe Tommy's dad wasn't letting him talk to Riley anymore. That wasn't a very heartening thought; that his last remaining link to humanity had been severed._

_When he'd woken up in this place he'd been convinced that his family would turn up soon and rescue him; but with each new bruise, each crack, each loss of consciousness, he was becoming less sure._

_After all he _had _run away from home. Maybe they were happy now he was gone. Perhaps they'd forgotten about him. They had probably already converted his bedroom into a games room or a study room or…or…_

_He didn't want to think he'd been forgotten but if he hadn't then why hadn't he been found? Why wasn't he curled up at home in his nice warm and comfortable bed?_

_A bone in his leg had cracked today…tonight…whatever; he didn't care anymore._

_He just wanted to go home._

* * *

Ben stopped in the middle of the path and took his arm from around Riley holding him by the shoulders again. He looked into his eyes, still glazed and now bright with tears and wondered what on earth was going on.

"Riley?"

The boy blinked slowly but otherwise made no sign that he'd heard his friend. He probably hadn't, mind too engrossed in whatever it was he was thinking.

What Ben would've given to see what Riley was right at that moment.

_

* * *

_

He'd managed to leap a fence and hide in the nearest shrub.

_Riley never ever ever _EVER _wanted to go back there ever again, wanted nothing more than to keep running forever and ever but he was so tired and aching and…lonely that he couldn't go on any further._

_Ankle screaming, head throbbing and leg in agony he curled up as much as he could and sat there for hours._

_Tommy was dead._

_Tommy was dead and it was all his fault._

_Stupid kid just had to wait until the beating was over again and then they'd have a talk, just like last time, and the time before, and the time before that and every other time. Why had he not just waited?_

_A sob shook in his chest as he tried not to cry. Tommy's dad could still be following him and he really didn't want to be caught now that he'd actually got his precious freedom._

_Tommy was dead because he'd tried to protect Riley._

_It was all his fault._

_There were so many questions that he'd never asked the kid._

_How old was he?_

_Did he like comic books?_

_What was his favourite TV show?_

_Tommy had asked him all these random questions and Riley had enjoyed talking about his old life to the kid but had not once thought to ask them back; never thought to find out about the kid. The well of guilt that had quickly built up in his chest doubled before increasing tenfold._

_He'd been so selfish; so bloody pig-headed, not once thinking of anyone except himself._

_He hated himself._

"_Ri?" he looked up. A familiar face was hovering just outside the bush, concern etched across it. "It's me. It's Joe."_

_Joe._

_His older brother Joe._

_A hand made its way into the bush, stopping about a foot in front of him._

"_You wanna come outta there?"_

_No. No he didn't. He wanted to stay in the bush. He_ really_ wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole but that wasn't going to happen either._

"_I'm not gonna hurt you."_

_Riley knew that. Joe wouldn't hurt him. No one would, no one _had _until he'd been taken by that man. Tommy's dad._

_A half sob escaped him before he could catch it._

"_I'm gonna take you home."_

_Home. Home sounded good right now._

_Warm bed; loving family; food!_

_Shaking, he reached out to meet his brother's hand half way._

_Joe's grabbed at his wrist as Riley flinched back. It was the first human contact he'd had that wasn't a beating since he'd run away._

"_Riley… What happened?"_

_It ran through his head. Every second in fast motion, from waking up in pain to losing consciousness, every moment right up until he saw the still form of Tommy when it was stopped by the tears coming down his face._

_It was all his fault._

* * *

Riley's legs gave way beneath him which caught Ben by surprise so he didn't have time to try and catch his friend.

"Come on, Riley." Ben curled his arm around the boy again in an attempt to lift Riley up off the floor. "It's just a few more steps."

Riley's hand grabbed at the front of Ben's shirt shocking the historian.

"Riley?" his head was pointed at the floor but his chest was starting to shake like the rest of him. "Riley!"

Nothing, not in the whole of history, not in the whole of existence could have prepared him for the look that Riley gave him as he looked up. The boy's eyes were brimming…no, overflowing with tears and his mouth open in a silent sob.

Ben placed his hand on the one on his shirt and found it was clinging desperately to him as Riley lowered his head.

"Oh, G-God!" the boy barely got that out before he began crying violent, yet silent, tears.

What Ben did next was the only thing he could do, I'm sure you'll agree, being as clueless as he was as to what had brought this about. He fell to his knees beside Riley and pulled the boy into his chest, holding him there with one hand and cradling the boy's head with the other. The sobs became more violent as they sat there but Riley never made a sound except the odd gulp for air.

Ben knew this had been a bad idea.


	7. On the Edge of Meltdown

**Disclaimer:** I actually have time to work on this for once so…um…yeah, not mine, kay? If it were then I would die of happiness/contentment. Seeing as I'm sitting here typing this (as well as the next chapter) and not currently buried in a stuffy coffin I think it's safe to assume it's not mine. There I think I can safely call this chapter disclaimed.

**A/N:** I think now is the right time to give you a heads up about next week. I'm doing a show from the 23rd to the 27th and as a result I will be unable to update at all from the 21st (tech and dress rehearsal before opening night) due to being on stage every night and at school every day. I have planned it so I know where I'm leaving off for this in chapter nine (that's where I realistically believe I can get to before next Sunday although if I really push myself I might make it to chapter ten which you would all probably kill me for leaving off at but it's a we'll see kind of basis). I'm really sorry about it guys but there is absolutely no way around it. Righty-ho. Here we are, one of my slower updates but one of my more difficult chapters to write. NOT a 'filler' although not overly plot-driven; sort of like chapter three, meaning there are small tit-bits in there just for 'enjoyment' of reading and so on and so forth. Would have probably completed this and updated yesterday but a friend called up needing a good friend, and when that call comes you don't say no. I managed to get this done all the same and I'm on track for everything else that's still to come. Thanks for all the reviews, they really do help and its reassuring to know that if you put the word stench then everyone knows there is a body somewhere in the house (lol) oh and thanks for making this my most reviewed fic. Makes me feel more confident about my writing. Let's see, what else? Nothing involving sherbet this chapter although I do keep hearing the names Shaw, Ben and Charlotte lately. What is up with that? Anyway, you probably want to read the chapter so I'll stop typing here so you can get on with it. Enjoy ¦D

P.S. I've taken to posting about writing progress on my profile on a daily basis during the week so check it out to see how it's going in between updates.

**Chapter Seven: On the Edge of Meltdown**

**Song:** Ring Ring by Mika

_

* * *

_

Asking for help is the hardest thing to do whatever the situation and nine times out of ten, people will choose the 'easy' option. It's human nature – Anon.

**

* * *

**

Three weeks later…

The television was on full blast; some random channel, whatever the hell the programme happened to be. Not that it mattered.

Loud and blaring, it was making some smaller loose objects scattered around shake in place; any minute now Mr Chesney would be banging on the door ordering that the volume be turned down or off this instant or he'd be reporting Riley to the relevant person of highest authority regarding the building's residents' rights to a quiet Saturday morning. Riley was planning to ignore him; it had worked before and he doubted it would fail to work now.

Riley was sat on his couch staring blankly at his television. People, or cartoons, were moving, or dancing, or running, or something of that sort on the screen but none of it was reaching his brain. If it was it wasn't being processed properly. Either way he wasn't paying it much attention; it was just on to break the silence…and maybe some of it was to annoy Mr. Chesney.

It was the same for his laptop; sat on the over-crowded desk at the far side of the room, alone and 'neglected', not having been used since the day he'd gone to Ben and Abigail's for dinner because he couldn't focus and read anything that popped up on the screen. It was a crime against nature…well, Riley's nature. But above all it was annoying.

Riley glanced across the room at his clock and sighed letting his head fall forwards. Please, no. It was that time of day again, had been for about an hour now.

Right on cue the phone began ringing but he didn't move. He knew very well who was calling; he knew _why_ they were calling too and he didn't want to hear anything they had to say right now.

Over and over, ever since they'd got back from that…place, Ben had fussed over Riley constantly and although it had been comforting and reassuring to begin with, it quickly grew annoying and overbearing. He was a grown man; a perfectly capable twenty-seven year old who didn't need to have someone holding his hand 24/7 contrary to what people assumed.

He'd explained this, politely, to Ben who had agreed to lay off. And he did; for two days. That's when the phone calls started. Every morning, rain or shine, Ben would call between seven and nine in the morning on the pretence of wanting to arrange a day out with him and Abigail which always fell through as Riley would either make up some excuse or other or remind the historian of his own previously agreed arrangements.

The phone was still ringing.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Ben trying to keep him occupied and feeling involved, but what he needed was some time, you know. Time to reflect. Time to think. Time to feel self-pity and/or self-loathing before his historian friend managed to convince him to put the whole sordid affair behind him. He wasn't ready for that yet. He had more contemplating to do before he'd be ready.

The phone was still ringing when the banging on the door began. Ah, Mr. Chesney.

Riley had disconnected his answer machine after Ben had left several really desperate-sounding messages inviting him out to dinner or for a drink or even just a drive.

He sighed again as he thought of his Ferrari; something else that hadn't been the same since that night he went to dinner. Driving held little to no thrill anymore, the wind on his face no longer making him feel alive and like he was really living; it just made him feel numb.

Closing his eyes, he half laid out on the couch. He hadn't slept properly in a while either, having restless sleep and waking up in a cold sweat every few hours. Every time he'd wake up feeling exhausted and in no way refreshed or energised; in fact he was practically asleep now, eyelids drooping and body relaxing, encouraged by the comfort of the couch.

The phone stopped.

Wait for it…wait for it…

Nothing.

Shit!

If Ben wasn't phoning back already it could mean only one thing; he was giving up on the indirect approach and already on his way over to try and straighten things out. Although Riley'd be grateful for the company for once, this was _Ben_. However you looked at it, any visit from him, however well-meaning it was meant to be, would just end in 'the talk' and that was something he wanted to avoid for as long as possible please.

Reluctantly he got up and shut off the television. He was so goddam tired.

"Thank you!" Mr. Chesney's sarcastic yell didn't even register with Riley as the boy grabbed a coat. Once he'd found his iPod and grabbed his apartment keys he was out of there.

Where to? A walk he guessed. Away from the Ben-magnet that was his apartment.

Closing the door behind him, he placed the earphones in his ears and selected shuffle; he didn't care what music played so long as he could turn it up and block out everything around him with it. Turning up the volume, he thought about how Abigail would always nag at him that he'd lose his hearing but he didn't care about it right now. His personal health wasn't exactly the most prominent thing on his mind at the moment.

The street wasn't overly busy; people walking, or in some cases jogging, past the building and across the streets with their attention enraptured by something electronic; an MP3 player, a cell phone, Bluetooth headset, some guy even had a weird flashing, bleeping PDA thing. That was something that separated Riley from other people; as much as he loved his laptop and his various electronic gadgets, he never used them when walking. Well except for right now, but he wanted an excuse to ignore Ben if the historian saw and called after him.

Not completely sure where he was going, he continued walking. When he felt he was far enough away from his apartment to not get 'caught' he slowed a bit; he really was exhausted. His blinks were becoming gradually longer and his eyes were very determined to stay closed, but he couldn't just collapse to the sidewalk and sleep. No, that would attract attention. Not to mention it would be very cold and probably wet; it had been drizzling the day before.

Busy daydreaming about sleeping, he forgot to pick up his feet properly and stumbled to the ground. His knees stung but otherwise his only pain was to his already shaky and close to broken pride.

Geez! Was this his life? Was this shitty little existence _really_ how he lived now? No TV, no laptop, no car! Everything he enjoyed had been taken from him! Everything! And all because of this stupid bloody thing that happened when he was barely a teenager!

…

He shook his head. He couldn't be dwelling on this now. He _really_ couldn't. Not in the middle of the sidewalk. Not in public.

People were staring at Riley as he used a nearby lamppost to haul himself back up to his feet. He'd have felt humiliation if he wasn't so damn tired…or stupid…or angry…or upset…or…or…

An exasperated sigh was let out as tiny water droplets began to fall from the sky and soak through his coat. Icing on the cake. Icing on the goddam cake.

He rubbed his hand across his face in an attempt to keep it together. What the hell could he do now? There was _no_ way he was going back to his apartment, or anywhere in _that_ general direction; Ben was sure to be sniffing around for a while now hoping to catch him out and that was so not an avenue that he fancied walking anytime soon. Rain or no rain, he'd have to keep going.

A yawn stretched his mouth wide and he realised he was going to have to sit down soon or else he'd fall down…again. Somewhere to sit sounded good.

It was surprising how few places there actually were to sit around here. Not a single seat or bench in…well, in a really long walk from Riley's apartment and keeping going was not getting any easier.

Eventually though, after a long and tiring search, he found a small bench that was near some green space or something. It was difficult to tell really because more or less the moment that he sat down and settled on the seat, he leant his head back and was asleep.

* * *

He had a nightmare of course; could never sleep without them any more; filled with survivor's guilt and brutal beatings and all that kind of thing, same as always. Not really anything he wanted to talk about; **especially** not with Ben, because if Ben saw him and they began 'the talk' there was no denying that that's the sort of thing they'd end up getting round to.

How was he doing? Was he busy today? Did he want to do anything? Was something bothering him? What was going on? How was he coping? Why hadn't he returned any of Ben's calls? What exactly was he doing all day cooped up in his apartment?

It would start out all friendly and that, but soon enough it would degrade into more of an interrogation than a conversation and Riley didn't want to answer any questions today. Or tomorrow for that matter. In fact, if they left the matter well alone for the rest of forever, it wouldn't be a bad thing.

Mercifully, he woke up slowly rather than jerking awake. Once, when he _had_ jerked awake, he'd ended up lashing out and kicked the wall nearly breaking his toe. Hadn't been a good way to start the day; the rest of that _particular_ day followed in a similarly crappy fashion.

Falling asleep on park benches, as appealing as it may sound when you are literally falling asleep on your feet, is never a pleasant experience no matter how gently and slowly you wake up as you often fall asleep in the most awkward and uncomfortable of positions. This time was no exception.

His left foot had most definitely gone dead and his neck was aching due to having nothing to rest back on. Lifting his head up, the pain in his neck increased and the headache that had developed made itself known. Well that's a great way to wake up, ain't it?

A throbbing head, an aching neck and a dead left foot; ironic that it was almost identical to the injuries that had been inflicted on him in his nightmare by…

Riley paused. If you had a bad dream during the day could it strictly be called a nightmare? Shouldn't it be a daymare?

He let his head fall back again. Sometimes the stupid things he would think to prevent himself thinking of the things he was trying not to think about were unbelievably stupid, and their stupidity led to their becoming ineffective. Like now.

12:28

That's what his watch said; he'd been asleep on this bench for three and a half hours minimum. Thinking about how much sleep he usually got that was quite good. It was odd though that he could get more sleep in an uncomfortable position on some random bench in the rain than he could in his warm and comfy bed back at his place.

"You okay?" the voice came from his left and as he turned he saw a woman sat on the other end of the bench. There were grocery bags around her feet and she was gazing curiously towards him.

"Huh?" he pulled an earphone from one of his ears. His iPod was still playing.

"You seemed a little agitated." She didn't take her eyes off him and her voice sounded concerned. "You were mumbling something."

"In my sleep?" she nodded and he groaned.

Years and years ago, long before Riley was thirteen, he and Joe had shared a room. Something Joe would always joke about was how Riley would mumble in his sleep.

"Don't worry. I didn't hear anything in particular."

Joe never heard anything either, random words like 'potato' or 'dragon' maybe but nothing that ever made sense on its own.

"You musta been real tired." Her eyes brightened with curiosity as she spoke. "You didn't look very comfortable."

"Is she alright?" there was a little girl shrieking her head off in the middle of a small flock of pigeons about six feet in front of the bench. The woman looked to her and smiled. There were obviously together.

"She's five." As though that explained everything. "You know, the age when she has boundless energy and the complete inability to do absolutely nothing for more than two seconds."

Riley smiled. He vaguely remembered being that age. Everything was a challenge waiting to be beaten; every day a new adventure just waiting to be had; countless things to be done and far too little time to do them in. Of course, for Riley adventures weren't so high on the daily priority list. Two major ones in a couple of years was plenty enough to be going on with for now.

Strange how things change as you grow up.

The woman glanced down at her watch and sighed.

"Chloe!" the little girl stopped before yelling something back which Riley didn't hear. "Come on! Time to go!" She gathered up her few grocery bags and stood up while Chloe just continued to run around. "Is it just me or are all children pre-programmed to ignore what their parents tell them?"

His eyes fell to the ground. He'd ignored his parents when…

"It was nice to meet you." she smiled at him as she walked away. "I hope you get some better sleep."

"Me too." He muttered it to himself since he wasn't too sure if he wanted her to hear.

He really couldn't catch a break.

The rain had stopped but his clothes were soaked through. Ben was sure to have ske-daddled back to the mansion by now so he figured it would be safe to go back to his apartment and change into some dry clothes. That's presuming he knew how to get back there. Looking around he didn't recognise where he was. He really must have been tired; or maybe it was distracted.

He rubbed his temple. The headache was really starting to hurt now and attempting to think was just making it worse. The best thing to do would be to go home and sleep it off; just like every other crappy headache that he'd got these last few weeks.

Not caring if it was the right way or not, Riley randomly chose one of the ways out of…wherever he was; some park or other he guessed. Boy, he really needed to get out more. If he walked long enough he'd find somewhere familiar and find his way from there; he couldn't have gone that far.

Sure enough he'd found his way in less than two minutes. Seriously! How tired had he been to not notice where he was?

Barely a block from his apartment he turned his iPod off and stuffed it in his pocket. It was almost out of battery and his ears hurt. Everything was eerily quiet compared to how loud his music had been.

Riley didn't pass anyone in the building on his way to his floor and was grateful for it. Peace was easier to bear when no one was around to break it. He lifted his key to put in the apartment door but as he went to turn it, the door was yanked open from the inside.

Riley's face settled into a scowl as he sighed.

Avoidance and procrastination was only going to work for so long and Riley knew that; he had just been hoping it would last a bit longer. But dodging and ignoring and avoiding just wasn't going to work anymore.

Stood in the doorway, filling it almost completely, was Ben Gates with the most disapproving look imaginable on his face. Grasped in his right hand was an empty beer bottle, the contents of which Riley had emptied down his throat the night before, and on the table just behind him the six or seven other beers that had been consumed over the last three days.

Rumbled.

The look on Ben's face and his stance and the anger radiating off of him said it all.

They were going to have 'the talk'.

And it _wasn't_ going to be pleasant.


	8. Out in the Open

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in this. Nothing! The only thing even involved in this whole fic that I own is the computer which I typed it on and that's second or third or forth hand. Besides, technically I share it with my sister so not even that is mine. Aah! *grabs computer possessively* it's mine!! But everything else isn't.

**A/N:** I was walking past a jeweller's yesterday (forgot to tell you bout this) and they were selling two 'masonic rings' and they look exactly like the one Sadusky was wearing in NT1 except one is slightly thinner than the other!!! Anyway, heh, I did it again! But don't expect a repeat of last week's hat trick. The next bit needs a bit more research and time and devotion so I'm sorry, it's going to be a Thursday update by the looks of it, but believe me, it WILL be worth it. With this chapter though I think some of you are thinking it might go a similar way to Ben's Side in Three Sides but it _really_ isn't. After all, we're only two thirds in, if that. I want to say more but I'm so goddam proud of what I've done in here that I want you to read it to find out. Your reviews have really been great because it gives me an insight into what you think about what I write and how you're reading it. Really is invaluable. This is now my most subscribed story and I would like to thank those who've put it on alert, I'm flattered. It's also my third most viewed but the other two have been up for over eighteen months so, wow! Anyway, I'll wrap this up so I can update and you can read. Laters ¦D

**Chapter Eight: Out in the Open**

**Song:** Friends Don't Let Friends Dial Drunk by Plain White T's

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* * *

_

If we need help will those around us stand around and let us be destroyed or will they come to our aid? – M. Dowd (New York Times 1984)

* * *

The first week had been the worst.

There was no way that Ben was going to let Riley go back to his apartment on his own when he was in such a state, so once he had managed to get Riley into the passenger seat of the car he called Abigail before getting in himself. She agreed that it would be better if he stayed with them for a bit, just until he… Felt better didn't sound right but there was no other way to put it. He explained the plan for Riley during the drive which the kid spent the entirety of looking out the window and slumped against the door.

When they arrived at the house, Ben showed him to the room Abigail had set up and watched as the kid shuffled over to the bed before almost falling down on it.

Riley was a whiner by nature and was very protective when it came to his independence, always insisting that he was able to take care of himself, but he didn't protest once about this arrangement which unnerved Ben and Abigail. It was the first sign there was something wrong.

He didn't eat anything even though both of them would regularly take him trays of food. Every time they returned to check on him the only thing that changed was the level of the glass of water that came with the meal. The meal itself _always_ sat there untouched.

Most nights Ben would go in and talk to him a bit; just small talk most of the time; how his day had been, what was in the headline, things like that. Just so the kid knew that he wasn't alone and life could move on. Still, day in and day out, Riley just lay there, curled up on his side, his head pulled as close against his chest as it could possibly be; and he never moved or did or said anything no matter what happened.

He stayed like that for three or four days and just lashed out when anyone came too close, literally. Ben got caught round the lip a couple of times and even smacked round the head enough to leave him reeling for a minute or two. After that he didn't let Abigail near enough to try.

Neither of them had any idea what had done this to him; Ben just knew it was something big and very _very_ bad.

* * *

Riley had packed up and left one day without a word. Abigail was at the National Archives and Ben was giving a talk at some event or other and they came back to find Riley gone.

His bed had been made and a note left on the pillow.

_Thanks._

No more, no less. Just 'Thanks'.

No explanation, no 'I'm going to be here', nothing.

It was infuriating but heartening. Riley was trying to reassert his independence again so he must be feeling better; moving more and more towards the Riley they knew and loved.

And Ben had honestly believed that…right up until the moment he found the till receipt for three six-packs of beer dated three days before and twelve of those eighteen emptied of their contents and left lying around Riley's apartment.

* * *

The kid looked bedraggled and sodden when Ben opened the door. His hair was sticking to his face and his glasses were slowly slipping towards the end of his nose. What really struck him though was the scowl on his face.

"What's this?" Ben held forward the bottle in his hand. Riley scrunched his face up in confusion.

"Is that a trick question?" He pushed Ben out of the way as he barged into the apartment. The kid strolled over to the other side of the room and tossed his coat over the back of a chair before he stretched.

Ben sighed. Riley wasn't planning on taking this any further was he?

"I've had enough, Riley." The kid walked over to the television and switched it on. The volume was far too loud to be healthy and blaring as Riley walked into his bedroom. Once Ben found the remote he turned down the noise before continuing. "Tell me what's going on."

"Nothing's going on." It drifted in from the bedroom, slightly muffled as he, presumably got changed.

"Bullshit."

"Seriously Ben." He re-entered the room pulling a plain top over his head. His soaked jeans had been replaced by an old pair of sweats while his worn sneakers had been kicked into a corner and his glasses had been abandoned. "I don't know what you're expecting me to say."

"How about we start with you telling me what the hell is going on."

"I told you, nothing's going on." Ben placed the beer bottle he was holding on the small side table and Riley glanced at it as he sat down. He sighed. "So, I had a few beers. So what?"

"As I recall, you believe alcohol to be a foul smelling, batch of pigswill that should never be touched by anyone who is sane of mind."

Riley bit his lip before nodding. "Yeah."

"So how exactly does someone who believes that, finish off twelve bottles in three days?"

"With great difficulty."

"You think this is funny?"

"Hilarious." Riley's voice was flat as turned to the television screen.

Ben knew he wasn't watching the program it was showing; he was just trying to avoid conversation. Nice try, kid.

"Where were you?"

"What?"

"Where have you been?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Just out. What does it matter?"

"The TV was still warm when I got here. You'd only just left. Where were you going?"

"Out."

"Riley!"

Ben was caught unaware by the anger in his voice.

"Geez Ben!" Riley rolled his eyes. "I went to the park; that's all."

"Why?"

"For fresh air!" he turned to Ben angrily. "Is that against the law now or something? Is there some law that's been instigated that says 'Riley Poole is no longer allowed to venture forth from his apartment because it doesn't suit the required needs of Benjamin Gates'?"

Ben sighed and rubbed his head with his hand. He was already starting to have a headache and they'd still got no further. Times like this, when Riley purposely avoided questions, were the times that Ben really felt for Ian. This was how Riley treated Ian all the time and, if he was honest, Ben was sure that he'd feel like pulling a gun on the kid if he kept on like this for much longer.

Seemingly satisfied that Ben had finished, Riley turned his attention back to the television but his eyes weren't focused right for him to be watching it.

Ben sniffed the air. When he had opened the door earlier he'd been hit by a wall of stale air that was hot, stuffy and bad-smelling but nothing too bad. Since Riley had returned though, there was a distinct odour that was worsening.

"What?" Riley looked nervous as Ben strolled over.

He leant down and sniffed before pulling back in disgust. "Oh God!"

"Hey!" The kid's arms shot up to push Ben back but he'd already staggered away.

The smell was alcohol; cheap, nasty alcohol in large quantities. The exact same smell that was coming from the bottles but in a more concentrated form. "You're drunk!"

"I am not!"

Riley was probably telling the truth. He wasn't slurring or falling over or overly distant; well… He didn't seem to be drunk but the stink was undeniable.

"There is _no _way you should be drinking this much."

"And why not?" he scoffed rubbing his temple; probably feeling the start of a hangover headache.

"Well first of all, it's dangerous." Riley ignored him. "And second, you know you can't handle your alcohol."

"I can too."

"No you can't. You know you can't. The only time you ever say you can is when you're drunk."

"Oh, shut up!"

Both his hands were holding his head up now and he was staring intently at the floor. Why wasn't he making eye contact with Ben? Did he think that the historian would just vanish if he couldn't see him? Probably.

"Listen, Riley." Ben tried to keep his voice calm and even but didn't quite manage it. "I want to _help _you, and so does Abigail, but we can't help you if you don't tell us when something's wrong.

"Nothing's wrong." Riley raised his head to meet Ben's eyes as he spoke. "And if it was, I don't need your help."

Ben scoffed. "Really? Tell me, when was the last time you slept the whole night through?"

He waited while Riley glared at him "…Last week." It was quiet, barely audible.

"And the last time you had a proper meal?"

"…Pass."

Riley had lowered his head again and was talking to his feet, still covered with his wet socks.

"We just want to do what's best for you, Riley." He left it hanging in the air so Riley could think about it and take it in.

After a minute he raised his head again, looking at neither Ben nor the television but a piece of wall in front of him.

"I thought it was about what I wanted."

"Huh?"

The kid sighed and swallowed, his gaze falling to the carpet "Before we went into the basement and found…found t-… you said you were with me, as long as that's what I wanted." Ben nodded. "Why didn't you stop me?"

"What?"

"You could've stopped me right there. You could've ordered me to turn around and get straight back to the car. But you didn't." There was a distant yearning filling his voice as he spoke. "You let me go down there."

"You said you wanted to." Ben couldn't see what he was getting at; he knew there was a point, Riley always had one, but he couldn't see it.

"Well what the hell do I know?" he sat back on the couch and folded his arms. His voice began to rise. "Obviously not a lot. Not enough."

"What are you going on about, Riley?"

"If you thought of me as your friend you'd have stopped me. But no! I'm only ever your friend when it's convenient for _you_."

"What!"

How the hell had he come to that conclusion? What in the-?

"Okay we were friends when we were looking for the Templar Treasure." He shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "But after _that _Ben, when all the exhibit openings were done and over with, what happened?"

Ben didn't say anything. There was no way Riley could be saying what he thought the kid was saying. It wasn't true. He'd done nothing to make Riley even think about considering it!

Had he?

"I'll tell you what happened; _you_ became busy. You started bailing out on me."

Ben opened his mouth to argue but Riley pushed himself up and started pointing at him accusingly.

"I obviously wasn't important enough to be a part of your life. Too insignificant." He kicked the end of the couch and the whole thing shifted about half a foot away. "A whole year, Ben, you blindsided me. You brushed me away. And the next time I _do _see you, you're telling me you need my help to sort out your family's problems. Again!"

"You were busy with your book." He managed to blurt out.

"I only managed to get that done because I tons of extra time since my supposed 'best friend' couldn't be bothered to spend even two minutes with me. Besides, you don't give a crap about my book." He kicked the couch again and it shifted another half a foot. "Nobody does! Who gives a shit about Riley Poole, assistant to the _amazing_ Ben Gates?"

"Riley-"

"No one even bothered to read it!" he took a step forward. "There was this one guy who bought two or three copies. Turns out he was using it to house train his cats."

"Will you please calm down?" He'd never seen Riley like this before; not even when he'd been drunk when they were first working together, trying to find the Charlotte. Riley wasn't a violent drunk, but then he hadn't had as much beer as he had now.

"Then after we found that city of gold and had all that brilliance surrounding us again, people wanting to know us…you… Remember how I got shot?" Ben shivered. How could he forget? "Sure that was a bad night but I thought maybe I'd get noticed for once, but no. I wake up and it's all about you. Instead of everyone being 'Poor Riley. He got shot.' It was 'Poor Ben. His friend got shot and he's stuck in permanent shock and unable to talk about it'."

Ben suppressed the anger that was rising in his chest but couldn't stop the harsh remark that rose with it. "Well I'm sorry if I stole your thunder by being concerned about you." he took a step towards Riley but the kid didn't step back. "And as for everything else…the world doesn't revolve around you, you know."

"I know it doesn't. It can't. It's too busy revolving around _you_!"

"What?"

"I'm always running around doing little errands for you; hacking here, breaking alarm codes there." Riley took another step forward and began gesturing animatedly. "But have you ever once thought about me Ben?"

"Of course I've thought of you. Why would you-?"

"Really?" Riley scoffed. "Then why didn't you try and stop me when I volunteered to stay behind on the teetering tabletop of doom and despair at Mount Rushmore?"

"What?"

"I'll tell you why; you were so busy worrying about clearing your great-granddad's name that you didn't realise that I was effectively giving up _my life _to help you."

Ben ran a hand through his hair and groaned. So he was going to play it like that, was he?

"Alright, so I've taken you for granted a few times; I'll admit that. You want to know the reason I do that? Why I don't always check that you're alright? Because I thought you could handle yourself. I thought you were capable of that. You obviously think that too or you wouldn't keep avoiding me or ignoring my calls."

"You could just stop calling."

"I'm not going to let my best friend wallow -in depression."

"You're 'best friend'? That's rich!" Riley cut across him.

"You _are _my best friend."

"What about your buddy then, the…the Parisian cop?"

"What _are_ you going on about?"

"Oh please! You were more buddy-buddy with him than you've ever been wi-."

"Don't be absurd." Ben stopped him before he could finish that sentence.

The kid put on a thick, mocking French accent. "Oh let me just get you a cab monsieur!"

"Riley!"

They stopped.

Both of them were breathing heavily stood just a few feet away from each other. Each had matching scowls and glared at each other, neither one backing down, for over ten minutes.

It was eventually Riley who looked away; dropping his gaze and turning away from Ben at the same time.

"You just don't understand." It was quiet; almost haunting after the yelling match they'd just had.

"I'm trying to Riley, but you're not exactly making it easy." Ben sighed. "I mean is this about me ignoring you and taking you for granted?" he took a step towards the kid and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Or is this about the body we found in the house?"

Almost instantly he knew that had been the wrong thing to say as Riley stiffened underneath his hand.

"Am I your friend, Ben?" Ben paused, what was he supposed to say? "Am I?"

"Always."

There was a pause when Riley lowered his head again.

"Then why didn't you stop me?" Ben's eyes fell to the carpet.

"Riley-I-" but Riley shrugged Ben's hand off his shoulder before taking two slow steps away. Ben looked up and saw that Riley was shaking.

"This isn't Mount Rushmore, Ben." His voice was shaking as he spoke but he didn't sound angry anymore; he sounded defeated. When Riley turned, Ben saw the tears that were streaming down his face and the resolved look they stained. "If I ever want to hear from you again, you'll be the first to know."

Ben blinked. "What?"

"Get out." He looked to the door which was on Ben's right.

"But Riley-"

"Get. Out." He was struggling to keep calm now and spoke through gritted teeth.

"You can't seriously mean-"

"Get out!" Ben stopped as Riley finally shouted at him. The kid turned his back on him.

"Riley?" he took a step forward.

Riley reached out and grabbed the beer bottle that Ben had placed on the side table before turning and hurling it right at Ben's head. "GET OUT!"

Ben ducked when he saw the bottle in the kid's hand and luckily it smashed on the wall just behind him, showering him with shards of green glass. What could he do? Riley was already reaching for another bottle so he jumped up and ran for the door.

Slamming it behind him, he heard the glass shatter and felt the door shake as they collided.

He sank to the floor leaning back on the door. There wasn't anymore shouting and no more glass shattering, so he began to breathe deeply.

_Way to go, Ben._ He thought. _You try to help your friend and just end up making things worse._ He cursed silently as he stood up and dusted himself down. _And now you've got to go and explain it all to Abigail._

He almost didn't notice it because he could still hear the TV through the door and it drowned out a lot of noise, but just in the split second between brushing himself off and starting to walk off he heard it.

The sobs were quiet and restrained but they were definitely coming from the other side of the door.

Riley stared at the door.

What was he _doing_? Ben was trying to help him!

His breath caught a couple of times as he realised what he'd done; what it meant. He strained to hear through the door and over the television but he could just make out Ben's heavy breathing.

Oh God!

He could have _killed_ Ben! He could have _actually _killed him!

He began to hyperventilate as that thought kept running through his head.

Why had he said all those things? Why had he _meant _them?

What was going on?

There was a thud as he fell to his knees but he didn't need to worry about the tears, they mixed with those already dripping off his chin. The sob shook through him before it broke free.

It was quickly followed by another one; and that was followed by another; and another. Eventually he couldn't hold them back anymore and they were shaking his whole frame.

They were quiet but they were there and they only got worse when he heard Ben walk away from the other side of the door.

Oh God!


	9. The Nightmares

**Disclaimer:** If I owned anything to do with this I would not be cutting things so close to my deadline of today. If I did I would end up without a job and end up not owning it so…yeah, not mine.

**A/N:** I must confess that I have cut this update really close. I finished this about an hour ago, no joke and it is tearing me up that I nearly missed the mark. I'm sorry everyone. I hope just hope it's good enough. (I cried while writing the first bit so you may wanna be prepared peeps). For this chapter I've got two quotes because I really couldn't choose between them, they both fit really well so I thought, have them both \o/. I am closing the poll tomorrow (Friday) because I want to update chapter Ten on Saturday and I don't have a lot of time to write it as I will be out for a large portion of the day doing an assessed Biology practical. The reason I'm shutting it is so I can start to put things into play that are essential for the overall ending. If I can't make a Saturday update I will try my darndest to update on Sunday but I will be out from 3pm till 10pm GMT doing band call and tech rehearsal so I can't guarantee it. Btw, the place I'm planning to end next chapter is going to make you all hate me so much ¦D I can't wait.

**Chapter Nine: The Nightmares**

**Song:** Come Back to Me by Plain White T's

_

* * *

_

-J'ai la fièvre, une fièvre artoce, ou plutôt un énervement fiévreux, qui rend mon âme aussi souffrante que mon corps!

_-__I am feverish, horribly feverish, or rather I am in a state of feverish enervation which makes my soul suffer as much as my body! – __**Le Horla by Guy de Maupassant**_

_No horror movie can compare to the terrors that one's own mind can conjure with the most minimal of prompting – __**Anon.**_

* * *

"_Get down!" Riley's arm was grabbed as Ben threw him to the ground. Barely a split second later, the ground shook as the gunpowder exploded._

_There was a thud as Ben landed next to him and loud cracking noises as the ship was blasted apart with a resounding BOOM!_

_Snow, thrown up in the blast, rained harshly down onto his back along with the odd shard of splintered wood._

_He could hear the muffled crashes and smacks as everything around them fell to earth and eventually settled. In the distance he heard the two snowvehicles they'd come in getting further away as they drove off._

_Ian! He was abandoning them!_

_Riley started to shift about in an attempt to sit up but it hurt to move. The snow he was laid on stung against his face; everything else ached like crazy._

_It was cold. Very cold. And his ears were ringing. And his legs felt like deadweight._

"_Ben?" he whimpered. It would've sounded more confident but when he opened his mouth it filled with snow._

_The sudden cold in his mouth sent a shiver through his body which helped to shift most of the snow that was on top of him. It was easier to move with that gone and he pushed himself up through the thinner layer of snow. Although breaking free of the cold blanket should've made him feel better, it didn't; the exposure to the cold air just made his lungs seize up and shrink, launching him into hyperventilation_

_Breathing. Breathing would be a good thing to try and do right now. Steady and constant and continuous. It wasn't that difficult a stunt._

_In, 2, 3, 4._

_Out, 2, 3, 4._

_Once he'd stopped gasping desperately at the chilled air he looked around. Where was Ben?_

"_Ben?"_

_He'd landed right next to Riley; so where was he?_

"_Ben?"_

_Nothing. No movement, no shifting of debris, no sound. Nothing._

_It was then he noticed it; the metal hatch they'd just passed through, the one Ben had dragged Riley through before throwing him to the floor, wasn't closed completely and part of it had been blown off in the blast. Ben had been standing right next to it when the explosion had gone off._

_So had he…?_

"_Ben!"_

_Frantically he dug through the snow beside him. Ben had landed there. He'd heard him!_

"_Ben!"_

_Brushing against some cloth, he froze before grabbing it tightly and pulling. It had to be Ben's coat which would still be attached to Ben; but why was he still buried in the snow? Why wasn't he moving?_

_Maybe he'd just had the breath knocked out of him. Yeah, that was probably it. He was paralysed by the snow and the cold and the whole shittiness of their situation, just like Riley had been for a moment. But he couldn't pull Ben out from under the snow. That wasn't good._

"_Ben?"_

_His fingers began to brush away the snow that had settled on top of where his hand grasped the cloth which he wasn't letting go._

"_Answer me, Ben."_

_The pleading edge to his voice made him sound like a child but he didn't care; especially when he started scraping against something metal. It was the missing part of the hatch. His hands and arms were shaking as he struggled to lift it up and off his friend and he knew that it had nothing to do with the biting cold._

_It had hit Ben in the head, hard; very hard; hard enough to make him bleed. It was a small cut just above his left eye but it was surrounded by a massive bruise and a large part of the side of his head had swollen and his eyes were closed._

"_Ben!" he shook the historian by the shoulder. "Come on, Ben! Wake up!" Riley was trying to stay calm as he saw the extent of Ben's injury but couldn't suppress the whine of worry that invaded his voice. "Ben!"_

_Carefully he pulled off one of his gloves and reached out to Ben's face. It was cold; too cold; and his lips were white. Shaking, he reluctantly moved his hand to Ben's eye and lifted the eyelid._

_Half the eye was bloodshot, white criss-crossed with little red veins. The other half, the half closest to the cut, was covered in blood. His pupil didn't constrict at the sudden light that filled it and, worst of all, the glint of determination that set Benjamin Gates apart from your average passionate historian had gone, replaced by a vacant stare._

_He choked on a sob as realisation smacked him in the chest._

_Ben was dead._

_Riley pulled his legs up to his chest as he felt a sob well up there._

_Ben was dead._

_He held his head in his hands, scrunching them into claws as he ran them through his hair._

_Ben was dead._

_It hung on that moment; that small moment when Ben grabbed his arm. If Ben hadn't done that to throw Riley to the floor, he could've got out the way in time. He would still be alive._

_But he wasn't; he was dead; because he'd stopped to save Riley._

'_Not again. Please not again.'_

_The tears that fell down his cheeks felt oddly warm in such a cold place. His chest was shaking with sobs, unhindered by fear or embarrassment that someone might see him; because he was all alone._

_He wanted to be wrong; he wanted Ben to wake up and for them to go back to civilisation and do lots of stuff that was simple and stupid like pay bills and watch those late night infomercials that drive you crazy and argue over which is better; technology or history. So many things he wanted to do now because he couldn't. Because he was stuck in the Arctic._

_And Ben was dead._

"_I'm sorry."_

_The small voice caused Riley to raise his head._

_Stood there, barely three feet in front of him, was a small boy. His bare feet didn't shiver as he stood in the snow; beneath his slightly overgrown brown hair his eyes were red, like he'd been crying, and his clothes hung from his thin frame in tatters. Sorry-looking as the boy was, it was shamed by the look of total despair and guilt on his face._

_It was Tommy._

_Except it wasn't Tommy. It couldn't be Tommy._

_Tommy was dead._

_Ben was dead._

_Both of them were dead. Because of Riley._

* * *

It had only been a dream.

He kept telling himself that over and over as he sat in front of his couch with his arms round his knees.

It had only been a dream.

Except for the tears. Those had been real enough when Riley had woken up. So had the guilt.

He didn't even remember falling asleep in his living room but he'd woken up on the floor about an hour after he'd effectively chased Ben out of his apartment.

That wasn't what happened. They'd got out alive and stopped Ian stealing the Declaration of Independence and found the Templar treasure and found Cibola.

But most importantly; Ben _wasn't _dead.

It was easier to convince himself of that since Ben was sat in his car outside the front of the building. He probably had been sat there all this time and was doing the Ben thing of deliberating and making a decision by process of elimination. Or maybe he was waiting for Riley to come out and apologise and for them to make-up and forget everything and move on.

As much as Riley wanted to go out there and get in the back seat and go to Ben and Abigail's for a few days, he knew this wasn't that much of an easy fix. He couldn't just go out there and ask for help from Ben. It was far too complicated, more so now after his outburst.

He held his head in his hands and groaned. Why did life have to be so fucking hard?

His head was hurting now as well; all the alcohol was catching up on him, so he felt queasy and tired and headachy and generally not-too-great.

Stretching for the remote he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it to his chest. Searching for the right button with just his thumb wasn't too easy but eventually he shut it off.

He didn't like the silence. It gave him too much of an opportunity to think; but having the television on was just making his head throb too much.

_Now this_, he thought, _is why I never touch alcohol._

Quickly, without the television in background, his eyes began drooping again and he was dozing against the couch.

Falling asleep didn't seem too appealing really, he'd probably just have another nightmare, but he was so exhausted and really starting to feel the effects of twelve bottles of beer in three days. It was easier just to give in to the impending darkness and sleep than to fight it. Besides, it would end up happening sooner or later and in all truth, Riley wanted it done and out of the way now instead of waiting for it.

_

* * *

_

Slowly Riley started to make his way down a small ramp that was to the side of the door; Ben and Abigail were close behind him.

_What little light there was pouring into the room fell across various stone 'gargoyles' scattered around the place. The shadows that had danced across them as the small treasure hunting group entered almost made them seem alive. It sent shivers down Riley's spine. An adult he may be but there was something about being in big creepy rooms and darkness that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end._

_It's kind of ridiculous to be afraid of the dark, he knew that, but he figured it was okay when you were in a place filled with creepy stone statues everywhere and which hadn't been entered by humans in hundreds of years. Especially since they were looking for a city of gold that loads of people had died looking for. Then there was the fact that this city of gold belonged to a long lost race that believed in sacrificing their people to the gods. If that's how they treated their own people imagine the kind of horrible booby traps they'd have laid out to stop strangers getting their most prized treasure._

_There was a squeal as Emily saw some of the statues. He'd barely been with Ben's mom half an hour and he could already tell that it wasn't just Patrick that gave him his annoying fervour for history and old stuff._

_An ominous creaking drew Riley's attention to the large wooden structure that stood just to the side of the ramp he was on. It rose about twenty feet into the air and was held together by very old and worn rope._

_Riley jumped off the ramp before it evened out so that he was on the even floor with it. The actual size of it was daunting, at least two and a half times his own height and hundreds of years old._

"_Ben, what is that?" Abigail's attention must have been drawn to it like Riley's._

"_Appears to be a counterweight to hold the door open." Sure enough he looked in the middle and there was a large stone cube hanging from ropes in-between the four wooden pillars and their supports._

_There was another large grating creak._

"_What's that noise?" No one answered his question so he took a step closer. The rope didn't look that old and worn actually. In fact, it didn't look that bad at all._

_On the closest beam to him there was a rope wrapped around it a few times. He couldn't see where else it was attached to or where it led and his curiosity got the best of him as he reached out with a finger._

"_Riley!"_

_Ben cried out barely a split second before Riley's finger made contact causing the younger man to turn his head as it did. The rope snapped and whipped around the beam, the tail end catching Riley in the face and knocking him back. The ground shook as the weight smashed straight down without its support and all the wooden beams began to tip towards him. He hadn't noticed to begin with but was now staring up at the tumbling trunks, his hand holding at his cut cheek._

"_Ben?"_

"_Don't move!"_

_Out the corner of his eye, Riley saw Ben jump off the ramp and run over before the historian's arms wrapped around him protectively and the two of them tumbled to the ground. Dust and dirt rained down on them from off the tall structure signalling that it was only going to be a moment before the entire thing hit them._

_Riley peeked through his eyelids which had been forced shut by the small particles and could see the wood getting bigger as it fell. He scrunched his eyes and tensed up as a particularly large and broken piece of wood fell straight at him. This was gong to hurt._

_At the last moment, he felt himself being turned onto his back and could only watch while Ben braced himself against the ground on either side of Riley as the falling debris got closer._

"_Ben, no!"_

_There was almighty clattering as various bits of wood fell about them. Riley couldn't see the falling wood anymore, his friend in the way. His blood ran cold when he saw Ben's face contort into a grimace and felt him slump forward onto his chest._

"_Ben!"_

_The cavern made Abigail's cry last for over a minute before it died out carried to every edge of the cave as an echo. There was nothing to hinder the sound now that the debris had completely settled._

_There was silence for a time, no one making a sound._

_No, wait…someone was sobbing. Deep sobs that seemed to choke whoever was making them._

_Why was someone sobbing? Had someone got hurt?_

_Then it struck him how still Ben was being; how quiet and calm and silent and-and-_

_Panicking he pushed up against Ben's chest hoping to push him off or startle him or get a response or something, but Ben remained limp and didn't move. Riley pushed again. This wasn't happening. Ben was fine. He was fine!_

"_Riley?" Abigail's voice was shaky as she came into view above him._

_He didn't answer, still struggling to get Ben off of him. Something had happened; something bad. But Ben _was_ alive; most definitely hurt in some way but there was no way Ben was dead. No way!_

"_Here." Ben's weight on him lessened as Mitch lifted the historian up enough for Riley to slip out from underneath. He immediately curled into himself once he was free, his arms instinctively reaching around his knees._

"_Oh my God, Riley." Abigail's slender arms curled around him and squeezed him tightly. Simple as the gesture was, it was both reassuring and sickening. Reassuring because it briefly stopped him feeling sick with grief and guilt and all sorts of messed-up feelings; sickening because he knew why he was getting it was not a pleasant reason. He didn't even need to look to know what had happened._

_He didn't want to see how Ben had died this time. There was no doubt he was dead because a familiar scrawny browned-haired boy was fading into view where Riley was staring blankly. That and he'd seen the sharp shard of wood heading his way before Ben moved him._

_Part of him felt angry at Ben. None of them wanted Ben to be dead. The historian had his mom and dad and Abigail and Riley and even Mitch who wanted him to be alive. Who wanted Riley alive? No one, not now Ben was dead._

_Ben was dead._

_He buried his head in his knees as the tears began to fall._

_Why?_

* * *

Ben's car was still outside, it was clearly visible from the window, so there was no way he was dead. Ben was inside that car, still breathing, still alive.

Every single time he closed his eyes now he was going to see something along those lines, wasn't he? Moments from over the past couple of years, when things hadn't gone wrong, going wrong and always ending with Ben dying trying to save him.

He closed his eyes as he realised how many different ones there could be.

That time Ian had pointed a gun at him while they were underneath Trinity Church; what if Ian had fired and Ben had deliberately stood in the way? Or when they'd all been playing see-saw on the balancing slab; Ben had only just made that final jump after forcing Riley to go first; it would've taken just one small slip…

He'd never sleep again if that was the kind of thing he'd see whenever he closed his eyes. He breathed in deep and leant his head back against the side of the window.

The most terrifying thing about them was either of them could have happened; they _had_ happened up to a point; the only thing that stopped them being _real_ memories was one small change to the series of events; one little thing that kept bringing about Ben's death so he could save Riley.

His mind drifted to what Ben had said while being shouted at by him.

_You_ are_ my best friend._

A stray tear he hadn't realised was building fell down his cheek.

Ben looked up to the window from the car and Riley jerked back not wanting to be seen.

It wasn't Ben's fault. It wasn't. It was just easier to blame him. It was convenient and easy and wrong and stupid and all other sorts of things. These goddam nightmares were enough to show him that, but he knew that they weren't going to stop happening just because he'd had an epiphany.

This went deeper than his guilt about Ben. It was rooted in that dilapidated house that housed a whole smorgasbord of bad memories and a fourteen-year-old dead body. The body of the boy who turned up whenever Ben died, looking guilty and responsible. The same boy who had died attempting to protect Riley from an abusive father.

This depression couldn't go unchecked anymore; he needed to face this head on. No matter what happened or how much it hurt he had to stop this now or it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He knew what he had to do?

He gazed out the window again in time to see Ben get out his car before crossing the street into the building.

The question was, could he _really_ involve Ben in this?


	10. Face Your Fears

**Disclaimer: **Look, if you haven't figured out that this isn't mine yet then maybe you might want to try something a little easier to read.

**A/N: **okay so there will be some of you thinking 'haven't we been here before?' but I was going over chapter ten and eleven and I really wasn't happy with them. I'm sorry if you were but I felt it necessary to try and avoid doing the kind of 'character exploration' type stuff that I already did in Three Sides so I've rewritten most of this chapter (although some of it hasn't changed). My friend Emeline pointed out that it may be because I rushed to finish the first chapter ten by show week which was stupid but she was great and told me she'd seen people do it before. Another problem is I tend to write something and then leave it so I pick up on it when it happens or I never pick up on it at all. I'm happier with this now but I'm still really annoyed with myself for unravelling the story like this and I'm sure some of you will be annoyed with me too. Understandable but it just wasn't right. Thanks for sticking with it and sorry for messing you guys about.

**Chapter Ten: Face Your Fears**

**Song:** Killer by The Hoosiers

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* * *

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Learn from history or you shall forever be doomed to repeat it. And I really ought to know that by now. – -Lady-Harker-

* * *

Ben should've called the police. He knew that then and he knew it now. He knew that if his father ever got wind of this he would say the same thing.

When they'd found the body he should've called the police and let them deal with it.

In truth, Ben had had every intention of reporting it when he'd seen it in the basement but the thought had slipped his mind during the process of getting Riley out of there. He would've gone on to report it after but he didn't know the address or even the way to get there so he'd have been of little use in finding it again.

A shiver ran through him as he remembered seeing it. He didn't know how long it had been there, what the cause of death was or even who it was.

Riley knew; of that Ben was sure.

The answers to these questions were what was causing his friend's unnatural behaviour; was making the outgoing kid shy away from society and his friends; was turning him to drink.

Riley really hated alcohol. It was something that he'd long held a strong principle for.

The kid would always know if Abigail had opened a bottle of wine in the kitchen the second he opened the front door, his nose was that sensitive to the stuff. While looking for the Charlotte none of the team could have anything stronger than wine around him otherwise he'd wrinkle his nose and have trouble focusing; once he'd even taken ill when everyone, except Ben, was having a beer.

For him to turn to drink he really had to be in some sort of emotional turmoil, like when his mom and dad had first split and Patrick had downed a few bottles of vodka every few days. It had killed Ben whenever he'd had to see his dad like that, so emotionally unstable that he couldn't face the world with a straight head. Just like finding all those bottles in Riley's apartment.

Whatever Riley'd done, whatever he'd said, it was because he was struggling. What it was he was struggling with was a mystery but it didn't change the fact that he couldn't handle it.

There was no way Ben could leave him like that.

It was that thought which had stopped his hand when he'd gone to turn the key in the ignition.

Since then, for two hours now, he'd been sat behind his steering wheel thinking through his choices, over and over again.

One. Leave. Start the car and drive back home; wait for Riley to get over whatever it was that was troubling him and hope this whole thing would just blow over.

Two. Wait. Sit in the car for as long as it took for Riley to get annoyed with seeing it still parked there and wait until he came down to get rid of Ben before trying to engage him in conversation.

Three. Phone. Call up Riley in his apartment and try and reason with him that way.

Four. Take Riley's approach. Find the nearest bar with the cheapest alcohol and drown his sorrows until he passed out.

Five. Risk it. Go back up to the kid's apartment and try and straighten this mess out no matter how many bottles were thrown at him.

Ben sighed.

Number one wasn't even worth considering. Even if he decided to do it he wouldn't be able to follow through so there was no point wasting time on it.

The second one didn't look like it was going to be completed anytime soon either. In the two hours he'd been sat there, Riley had only looked out the window once and the look on his face wasn't one of frustration but one of depression.

If he called Riley he'd probably just be hung up on straight away; that's assuming Riley even picked up in the first place.

It was a depressing thought but number four seemed the most appealing at the moment. He'd done it before, a long time ago now, and the blissful numbness that came about from it was very tempting. But he couldn't think just about himself this time.

There was nothing else for it.

Number Five.

He was going to have to risk it.

Something was better than nothing and getting hit in the head by a bottle was most definitely something.

* * *

"Riley!"

Thump, thump thump!

"Riley, open this door"

Silence.

"Riley, I know you're in there!"

Thump, thump, thump!

"Riley!"

"For goodness sake!" a door halfway down the corridor opened and a middle-aged man with a balding head wearing a blue dressing gown stepped out. "What is it with you people and noise?"

"I'm very sorry." Ben obviously didn't sound it as the man looked disgruntled. "But some people don't seem to understand how to answer their door." He shouted the last part at the door.

"He ain't answering his door because he left five minutes ago."

He looked up at the stranger. "What?"

"Yeah. Completely silent in there for two hours and then a quiet slam of the door and hurried footsteps going off." This must be that Mr. Chesney which Riley kept moaning about. One of the kid's common complaints was the man's oversensitive hearing.

'Ears of a bat, Ben!'

Ben sighed and turned. Riley had seen Ben coming and was running away. Again! If he hurried he could probably catch the kid before he got too far down the blo-

"No. He went that way." Turning, Ben saw Chesney was pointing the other way down the corridor. "Headed for the fire escape."

"Why would he go down the-?"

He tore down the stairs and burst out the front doors of the building, only just having realised what Riley was planning to do. He would only go out the back way if he wanted Ben to think he was still in the apartment otherwise he would have passed him on the stairs or something. No, this was a trick. As he reached the edge of the sidewalk he caught a glance of the kid sat in the driver's seat of _his _car before it accelerated and pulled off at a considerable speed.

The historian ran full out after it a short way down the street but gave up when it turned the corner.

"Dammit!" Ben smacked his hand at a nearby lamppost and ignored the resultant throbbing that came from the action.

Where was Riley going?

And why did he have the feeling it would end bad?

* * *

It was an hour before Riley stopped the car.

His eyes were fixed looking straight out through the glass in front of him. He didn't turn; didn't look to the side or move or even glance at anything other than a small inconsequential spot on the windscreen where there was a small smudge of dirt.

Ben was a good guy; he wanted to help, Riley got that…eventually. If he'd asked, Ben would have come with him and stopped him when it was becoming too much and be the voice of reason as he so often was. But as long as Ben didn't fully understand what was going on, there was really little else he could do and Ben was not the big-on feelings guy. Well actually that's wrong, he wasn't averse to feelings but he wasn't the one to take things lying down and he would most definitely have said no to Riley's plan. So it was probably for the best that he didn't get the historian involved.

Stealing the car had been stupid. Wrong and stupid and risky and unplanned. But after awkwardly climbing down the fire escape he'd noticed Ben had left the keys in the ignition. If he hadn't taken it someone else would have _plus _it stopped Ben from coming after him. Two birds with one stone. That was the thought that was grounding him right now because he'd pulled up right next to a hedge with a hole in it.

Currently, his mind was stuck in a small loop of bad memories and pain and heartache and headaches and…and… His hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard as his mind ran through all those long-buried moments in one go that his knuckles were turning white.

Some of them were murky and incomplete, more memories of a feeling than an actual memory; others were so crystal clear that his stomach was starting to turn and threatening to eject the piece of toast he'd munched on that morning.

What was he thinking coming here alone? He'd just have a breakdown again and nobody would be able to pull him out this time. He hadn't felt suicidal yet but this little visit was sure to push him closer to that. Not good.

But this wasn't something that could just be left alone like this. Something had to be done. This was where it had started and this was where it was going to end. Riley was going to make sure of that.

A light breeze danced across the dead grass as Riley pushed his way past the broken gate. It wasn't like the last one when he'd been here, cold and frightening; it was more the kind of warm summer breeze that happened when you were sat on some friend's lawn with a milkshake enjoying that one hour between day and night when you don't have to do or say or think about anything. It was reassuring.

The sun was just starting to set and was throwing a palette of warm reds and oranges over the lawn and the house. With the peeling paint and various shadows from the high hedges all around it almost looked like the place was on fire. That wasn't so reassuring.

He stopped six feet from the front porch and stared at the house. What he was going to do now was beyond him. There was nothing he could do really except maybe go down into the basement and hold a Lord of the Flies style conversation with Tommy's body.

A moment passed when his breathing stopped. He couldn't even think about that kid without choking up. To begin with it was embarrassing but now it was getting painful.

He sighed. No time like the present.

The door creaked as he pushed it open with a gentle nudge. That smell was there and he resisted the overbearing urge to hurl next to the front door. Not throwing up was a good start and he continued in a similar way, striding with conviction through the hall ignoring the malicious step half-way up the stairs and right into the kitchen.

Breathing just through his mouth was not easy, his nose flaring instinctively every so often filling his whole head with the rotten stench. It seemed stronger than it had when he and Ben had been here. Maybe it was because he knew what was making that smell. He took a deep breath.

Golden and ornate, the key was still in the keyhole of the easily-missed door to that dank hole. He hadn't thought to bring a flashlight this time; probably for the best. Seeing the details would be a bit much right now.

Slowly, he curled his fingers around the faded gold handle and he pulled.

It didn't open.

Riley blinked and pulled again.

Still it stayed defiantly shut.

Now, he may have been lost in a plethora of bad memories and horrid nightmarish recall at the time but he distinctly remembered Ben taking him straight to the car. The historian hadn't gone back to close the door either.

Neither he nor Ben had had the chance to lock this oh-so-easily-terrifying door before they left. And that could only mean one thing. Someone had been here since then and purposely shut and locked it.

A creeping cold began to work its way through his chest from his gut and tightened it again. He took in a deep breath. If his assumption was right he should never have come back here; he needed to get out of there _right now_!

Carefully, to avoid launching himself into a panic attack, he stepped back from the door and turned to make his way to the exit.

His breathing stopped.

A large, dishevelled man with an overgrown beard and the distinct smell of alcohol peeling off him stood in his way.

"Who are you?"

The low resounding growl froze Riley where he stood.

There were two things, well three, that made him stop thinking rationally.

One. The man was stood before the window with the sun blaring from behind him which cast a striking and far-too-familiar silhouette across the floor.

Two. The colour of his hair was identical to that of the small terrified little boy who kept appearing in Riley's nightmares.

Three. Grasped tightly in the guy's left hand was a worn, battered and slightly blood-stained baseball bat.

Two small beady eyes looked him up and down as he stood there paralysed.

Fourteen years.

Two eyebrows knit together in puzzlement for a moment before scrunching up into anger.

Fourteen years.

"You."

Air whooshed out his nose in a snort and Riley couldn't help but think of how bulls in cartoons did that before charging.

The man's right hand reached across and joined his left curled round the handle of the bat as he advanced.

"You!"

Barely three short strides and he'd crossed the space between them drawing back the bat before swinging it round.

Riley didn't move; he couldn't. He was thirteen again. Helpless against this huge monster. This killer. That thought brought him to senses a little and he tried to duck out the way. It didn't work.

The bat, which had been aimed at his side, made contact with the left of his forehead with a sickening SMACK!

The force sent him crashing to the ground where he was kicked in the side with such force that his ribs cried out in agony. He let out a cry to match it and almost screamed when the bat smacked him flat in the chest.

All the air had left his lungs as he tried to desperately to get in some breaths but his lungs weren't expanding properly, forced back each time by his throbbing rib cage. Tears began to roll down his face as another smack hit his legs and he tried to cry out again but he didn't have enough oxygen to do it.

He wanted to curl up and wait for it to be over; it had worked before, all those years ago but the aching and the cold in his chest told him it wouldn't work this time. He was going to die. He was going to die a horrible and lonely and extremely painful death right here in this rundown house in the middle of nowhere. He would end up exactly like Tommy; forgotten, shoved under the basement stairs with no dignity and no one having any clue where he was or what had happened to him. He'd fade away because no one would even notice he was missing.

Except Ben would.

And so would Abigail.

He had plenty more friends than he'd had last time he'd been stuck in this place. He'd helped find the two most prolific treasures in the whole of history. Hell, he had a _book_!

People were going to _notice_ he was gone because he had people who cared about him! Well…that's if he hadn't pushed Ben away for good…and he'd never really been overly chummy with Abigail although there was no bad ground between them. When she heard that he'd been drinking would she get mad? Probably.

Well, they might not notice for a while but somebody would…somewhere…

With this in mind, Riley found the strength to kick out with both his legs, his eyes scrunched up in fear pain and the sheer will not to cry. Unable to see where he was aiming he missed the first time; and the second; but the third kick made contact with something hard and a large groan let him know he'd hit hard. There was a clatter as, Riley presumed, the bat fell to the floor.

Relief threatened to engulf him as the battering pain stopped but Riley knew that he had to get the hell out of there! Like right now!

He rolled sideways a couple of times until he was sure he wasn't under his attacker anymore before he pushed himself up onto his knees. They screamed at him in agony at the pressure but he ignored them as within moments he was on his feet.

Prising his eyes open he saw the doorway to freedom but as he ran to it he hit the wall just to the side as his head rolled with nausea. There wasn't time to worry about the wavering visions before his eyes though as there was movement behind him. Less than a moment later he'd dived out the door and was out the house. He burst through the gate and had slammed the car door behind him not even pausing to check the guy wasn't following.

Panicking he fumbled the key, taking about three tries to successfully get it in the ignition; once the car had started though, he floored the accelerator and was gone.

He was never going back there again.

Ever.

* * *

Riley had reached civilisation pretty quickly, kind of hard not to with the speed at which he'd been travelling. He would've gone slower but the adrenaline pumped through his veins by fear encouraged him to press his foot down further on the accelerator than was strictly necessary. Even with his speed it was night by the time he got there and the twinkling lights that were whizzing by his window did little to soothe his pounding headache.

Now that he was surrounded by people, normal everyday people, normal everyday average non-homicidal people, he had slowed to a more legal speed. He didn't know where he was going, driving round in circles, going along at least one road a minimum of seven times. Wherever he was he didn't much care about stopping to 'smell the roses' since the smell, even with the window closed, was pretty disgusting; then again it could be his own breath after all that alcohol.

Nowhere looked familiar to him and it was possibly the concussion that was keeping him from realising that he wasn't anywhere near his own neighbourhood so of course he wouldn't recognise anything.

It was when he stopped at his twentieth (or was it thirty-nineth) set of traffic lights when there was an exclamation from someone on the sidewalk and in the corner of his eye he saw an inquisitive finger point at him and heard someone ask something along the lines of was he alright to the person beside them. He kept his glare straight ahead willing the lights to change.

When it did he took off as fast as the speed limit and his wavering hand-eye coordination would let him. Maybe being around people wasn't the thing for him right now after all. He needed to get somewhere…somewhere less…public. Somewhere where he could curl up and…stop…and think…and…that's when he thought of where he needed to go.

A chilled wind blew past causing all the hairs on his exposed arms to stand on end. Why hadn't he thought to put on a coat or a jacket or a hoodie or something before he came out.

He pressed the intercom button three times before there was a click on the other end.

"Who is it?"

He opened his mouth but stopped…

"Hello?"

What exactly was he supposed to say?

It's Riley who's had the crap beaten out of him by someone who may or may not be who he thinks they are and he's also got a throbbing head and an aching body and an unhealthily overwhelming desire for sleep. Not to mention all the anguish and confusion building up in his head.

Yeah, right.

"Hey." Short and simple, even if it did come out as more of a whimper than he would have liked.

There was a pause. "Riley?"

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

The buzzer went and Riley ducked inside as another cold wind started to blow by.

As he climbed the stairs all he could really focus on was the fact that his heart was beating way too fast; the thrum pounding in his ears so hard that it was a wonder that people weren't yelling out their doors at him to keep it down. Every part of him was aching like hell now, every muscle protesting at continued movement but he'd come this far and collapsing in the corridor wouldn't do him much good.

After quietly knocking on the door it was swung open with such a force that Riley was surprised it wasn't ripped right off its hinges.

"Riley are you-?" the question quickly died on his brother's lips as his eyes looked him up and down.

"Hey Joe." It was a dry croak and he felt his attempt at a smile fail as his jaw ached.

"Shit."

"Can I come in?"


	11. Family Matters

**Disclaimer:** not mine

**A/N:** okay second rewritten chapter except its completely rewritten from the very start (hence the longer time between the updates(although I have been a bit ill lately sorry :s)) if you haven't read the reviewed chapter ten yet then go back or this will confuse the hell out of you. Pleased with this and hope you like it. Thanks to reviewers and alerters and all the people reading it as well. I've got to go now or I won't be able to update it for you so yeah…later. p.s. sorry it's short

**Chapter Eleven: Family Matters**

**Song:** How to Save a Life by the Fray

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* * *

_

_Can't! You can't? Can't is the word for a man who's been beaten! And broken! And that is not the man I see lying in a heap before me! – Joey Richter's Heart in Me And My Dick_

* * *

Riley's left temple was bleeding; or at least it had been recently. It was difficult to tell if it actually was still bleeding because wherever the blood was coming from was underneath where his hair came over his face; and there was a lot of it. Practically the whole side of his face was covered where it had run down and it kept his hair firmly plastered against his face.

It wasn't a pleasant sight for someone who was seeing their brother for the second time in a long while but it was woke Joe up enough for confusion and concern to set in.

"You okay?" such a stupid question.

A shrug in reply but an unmistakable sheen in his eyes and a slight wince at the movement. "Can I come in?"

Repeating the same phrase; probably to keep his mind focused. That wasn't a good sign.

"Joe?"

He snapped out of his reverie and noticed the confused look Riley was giving him; although it didn't look all that different to how he'd looked before. Taking a deep breath and silently cursing himself, Joe stood back from the door and allowed his brother to come in.

Riley was curled up on the couch with his legs drawn up onto the cushions next to him while his eyes were gazing emptily at the blank television screen to his side; it was most likely to avoid looking at Joe who was stood in the doorway watching Riley with a puzzled look. Something had happened; something big and something bad. Riley had said nothing, merely settling himself onto the furniture and avoiding looking at his brother; and Joe had said nothing, too afraid to hear what had happened to press the matter.

It was a fair while before he noticed the shivering. Riley was good at hiding it, tensing his muscles and desperately willing it to stop but it didn't last very long. Joe watched for a few seconds before retreating to his bedroom and returning with a warm shirt and sweater.

"Here." He tossed it at Riley who was caught by surprise by the sudden 'attack'.

"How long you been there?" his brow was furrowed in confusion.

"Never left." Riley blinked at him still contemplating for a minute before he stood up and removed his own slightly torn shirt.

Joe's brother had always had a small frame and was able to stay quite skinny despite the large amounts of food he generally consumed but as the shirt came up over his chest Joe was able to count a fair few of Riley's ribs on his side but it wasn't overly alarming. No, that wasn't what made Joe nearly choke on his breath. There was several large dark discolorations scattered across his stomach and side, but worst of all was the one on his chest. Rectangular and very, very dark purple, if not black; it stretched right across his chest and more than once Joe saw Riley barely brush it with cloth or his hand and wince.

The bleeding head he could probably have convinced himself was a result of some fall but there was no chance of that anymore. Something really bad had happened.

Barely a minute passed between Riley taking one shirt off and having both the new shirt and sweater on, obviously very conscious of his bruises. Joe shook his head slightly. Bruises were small and a red-purple colour that only lasted a few days at most but these? These looked a whole lot worse.

Riley mumbled a thanks before taking his place back on the couch purposely avoiding eye contact, settling his gaze on the blank screen once more.

He looked so small and fragile that Joe felt sick. Not since they were kids had he seen his brother look like this; not since they'd put the disappearance behind them and decided to move on. The same held true for Joe, not since finding Riley had he felt so helpless and he didn't like feeling this way; not at all.

* * *

Riley was exhausted. His blinks were gradually becoming longer and longer and each time he closed his eyes it seemed less likely that he'd open them again.

His arms' grip on his knees began to loosen and his legs started to slip out of his grasp.

Sleep was a good idea. It was inviting and promising and tempting but there wasn't any way he'd give into the compulsion willingly. Too many thoughts and memories and fears were running through his head, confusing him this way or terrifying him that way; it had all just ended up all tangled together in the biggest fucked-up mess that made his head hurt more.

After the argument with Ben, it wasn't until he'd fallen asleep that his subconscious made him realise how he really felt about it. If he gave into sleep now all this terror and fear and confusion would be increased tenfold and probably choke him to death…metaphysically speaking…or is that metaphorically?

Slowly his forehead fell forward onto his knees as, little by little, his neck gave up on holding his head up.

Not to mention the nightmares of the sickening figure throwing a shadow over him before beating him to a bloody pulp he was sure to have. Or what about those Ben nightmares? What if they continued? Or what if there was a big combination of all of those? What if he dreamed he was back at the house being beaten and Ben somehow turned up and stepped in to save him and got killed by the same guy who killed Tommy?

His eyes had closed now and they weren't opening; they were too comfortable in that shut position for him to muster the energy and willpower to force them open.

'No, please. I don't want to sleep.'

Joe sighed as Riley slumped sideways against the back of the couch with his eyes closed. Carefully he made his way over and reached over the back to grip his brother's shoulder.

"Riley." he shook it gently. "Riley, I really don't think you should be going to sleep." Concussion was what Riley had said and judging by the amount of blood it was practically a certainty. "Riley. You really need to stay awake." Joe knew next to nothing about concussions but he was worried that the kid might not wake up again if he lost consciousness.

He shook Riley's shoulder again a little harder which made him moan. "Come on buddy, it's for your own good." There was another moan but no other movement. That wasn't good.

Shaking his head in concern, he moved over to the phone and picked it up.

Enough was enough. He was way out of his depth and as much as he hated this idea he needed to do something. There were two rings before it was answered.

"9-1-1 emergency."

* * *

"So who is it?"

"Pardon?"

"Friend, relative, partner-?"

"Uh yeah, he's my brother."

"And do you know what happened?"

Joe shook his head. "Door went and he was there like this."

The medic nodded knowingly glancing over the back of the couch at Riley. "How long ago now?"

"Um…about forty-five minutes I think."

"How's it look?" he called to his associate who was assessing the damage on Riley's still form.

"Not good." His face showed the full extent of his concern as he pulled up. "Severe bruising, damaged ribs, mild to severe head trauma caused by quite a deep cut near the hairline." Joe closed his eyes and pretended he wasn't hearing this. He didn't need another list of injuries to be read out to him. This was far too much like back when they were kids. "I can't say for certain but there could be some internal bleeding."

"Back injury?"

He shook his head. "Not by the looks of it."

"D'we need a back board?"

"Wouldn't think so."

He nodded in agreement. "Difficult to manoeuvre on the stairs probably."

There was a moan from Riley and the medic placed a controlling hand on his shoulder to hold him in place in case he tried to move.

"Riley? Can you hear me?" There was only an incoherent mumble in response so the medic tried again. "Listen, I'm sure I don't need to tell you how many injuries you have but you need urgent medical attention so we're going to take you to a hospital where there'll be someone who can help you, okay?"

"Nrho." He mumbled before he tried to get up. The medic gently pushed him back down and indicated that Joe should come round and try and talk to him. "Don-li… Don-wrah…"

It took a while but eventually Joe understood what he was trying to say. 'Don't like… Don't want…'

"I know you don't like being in hospitals. I don't like you being in hospitals either." Both of them for the same reasons Joe was betting.

"Joe…"

"You haven't seen yourself, Riley, okay. You _really _need to go." He forced all his begging into his voice aware that any facial-pleading would go unnoticed as Riley's eyes were still closed. "Please."

There was a few moments silence before Riley begrudgingly mumbled, "Fine."

* * *

Joe knocked on the door of the apartment next to his and braced himself for the long rant he was bound to get from Mrs. Dodie. She was an…not an elderly lady exactly but she had long since claimed that her youth was over and would often talk about how 'those were the days'.

Sure enough when she opened the door with a white towel dressing gown on, her face looked like thunder and her anger would no doubt be swift.

"I am so sorry Mrs. Dodie." He blurted out before she could start to have a go at him. "I know how early it is but there's a bit of an emergency and I really need you to keep an eye on Mary."

"An emergency?" Her expression didn't change. "That couldn't wait until a more reasonable hour?"

Joe's mind flashed to that first image of Riley stood on his doorstep.

There was blood.

Blood and bruises.

Blood and bruises and dry tear tracks running down his cheeks.

Blood, bruises, dry tears and that hauntingly terrifying look of sheer terror that clouded his eyes.

That look had returned with reinforcements when Joe told Riley he would have to go to the hospital alone because he had something to sort out before he could leave.

"no." he said with such conviction that Mrs. Dodie's anger changed to puzzlement.

"Where is she?"

"Still in bed." he looked at her apologetically. "I wouldn't ask but it's… Well…" he sighed. "Pam will be here for Mary tomorrow and she will be pi-" his eyes flicked to Mrs. Dodie. Now would not be the best time to be swearing at her. "Pam will be annoyed that I left Mary with you but if you just explain that I'm at the hospital with Riley and I'll have my cell with me if she wants to have a rant-"

Mrs. Dodie raised her hand to silence him. "I curse the day I moved in next to you, Joseph Michael Poole." She shook her head with a slight laugh. "You go to your friend. I'll look after her." She closed the door behind her as she walked out her apartment.

"My brother." Joe said it so quietly that he was surprised when she heard him.

"Pardon?"

"Riley's my brother."

"I didn't know you had a brother." Mrs. Dodie looked at him in contemplation for a minute before she continued into his apartment.

Once she shut the door and there was just Joe in the empty corridor one of the rickety pipes sent an echoing clank throughout the walkway. "Neither did I."


	12. Not Just An Article

**Disclaimer:** I've lost count how many of these I've done and each time I end up writing random stuff cus I never know what to put. If I did own these movies I'd be much better versed in the ways of disclaiming in a funny (or is witty better?) and efficient manner. I'm not so… oh you do the math.

**A/N:** I'm sat here in my new black and blue converses (I love them XD) feeling pretty chuffed with myself and also a bit disappointed. The majority of this chapter is stuff you already know but I am really confident that this a very Ben reaction and I just love the phrase 'not just an article' so…ta-dah! I know I haven't updated in a while but I wanted to make sure I got this right before I posted it and I'm still a bit iffy on it so any problems you see if you could flag them up please and as most of you know I always take reviews into careful consideration when writing. Also a mention (last time I promise) if you haven't read the reposted versions of chapters ten and eleven, STOP! This chapter will make no sense if you don't go back and read them. So here you are, here it is, hope you like it.

**Chapter Twelve: Not Just An Article**

**Song:** Starz In Their Eyes by Just Jack

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I am certain of nothing but of the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of Imagination – **_John Keats_**

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The desk in the study had been taken over by various papers. A large proportion of them were newspaper clippings with faded letters and pictures; some were large pieces from the front few pages while others were small paragraphs of between two and ten lines. Police reports made up the reminder of the documents; all of them were strewn across the desk and every one of them, even the tiniest pieces which had next to nothing on them, had been written on or had words circled or some sort of mark that Ben had added to them.

Red felt pen, blue biro, black biro, black magic marker, some random pink crayon that had been lying around; all of them marking something that was of some importance. To begin with there had been a careful and quick, yet well-thought-out, colour-coded system but that quickly went to hell as phrases, names and places jumped out at Ben quicker than he could mark them.

Then there was the map, pinned up against the closest bookcase so it hung over several shelves of books covering them. Black marker circled several key points on it and a few had been crossed out but it was still much clearer than most of the papers. That was mainly because it was a bitch writing on the map when it kept flapping about; he hadn't had time to secure it properly.

"Whoa." Turning he saw Abigail stood in the doorway gazing in awe at the mess that the room had become. "Ben, I…" her voice tailed off as she looked over his work.

"I know." Ben turned and surveyed the scene again.

It was a bit overwhelming; and he was the one who'd done it. It had been a long gruelling process but finally he had finished it. He was exhausted but hopefully he'd pinned everything necessary. Quite a few times he'd got to this point but then he'd notice something important that he'd skipped over and go over absolutely everything to find something else that he'd missed.

Several of the papers had floated onto the floor without him really noticing so one or two had become ripped as he trampled on them; most, if not all, had at least one footprint on them and were not really relevant otherwise he would have picked it up by now and placed it somewhere in the chaos.

That's what it was in here. Chaos. How the hell Riley managed to have an organised version of this in his apartment was beyond Ben.

Ben didn't turn as he felt Abigail draw up beside him. "What _is_ this?"

"Riley didn't want to tell me what's going on, so I've figured it out myself." He nodded as he looked at it. It was all there. "I think."

"Wait, figured out what?"

Abigail knew nothing of what was going on; Ben actually hadn't told her. The full extent of her knowledge was Riley had had a breakdown a few weeks ago and stolen Ben's car today. If she knew any of the more intricate details she would go bonkers; in fact it would probably be better if he didn't tell what he'd found out but he had to tell someone; he had to talk to someone about it. Riley wasn't there, and if he was it'd be more than likely that he'd be the wrong person to discuss it with.

"It's not pleasant."

"Ben!" He didn't need to see her face to know the look she was giving him. Stopping now would mean Abigail would not be able to be held responsible for her actions.

Ben strode over to the bookcase and indicated the first point of importance on the map. "This is Joe's apartment."

"So that's where you two disappeared to." Abigail joined him at the desk. The look on her face was the familiar look of fascination she often got when she saw something of real interest to her. Quickly it morphed into confusion as her brow furrowed. "Ben that's…it's gotta be at least an hour's drive away."

"Hour and a half. Abigail, focus." He pointed to the second location. "Over here is Mrs. Eveston's house."

"Who-?"

"Where Riley was found." Maybe he should have told her something more about what was going on; especially if she was going to stop him every three seconds to bring her up to speed. Too late to dwell on it now though. "It was while we were going to point B," he tapped on the map, "from point A that we found," his finger moved to another circle close to 'point B', "point C."

"And point C is that house?" Abigail leaned in to better see it as Ben nodded. "Hang on. You've circled three houses here."

"Well there is one teeny problem." Trust Abigail to notice that. She always a stickler for detail. Maybe it was a historian thing. "Riley was driving."

She looked up at him in confusion. "…right."

He hadn't explained it right, had he? "I don't know exactly where the house is because I wasn't really paying attention; Riley was driving. I remember going past here," he indicated a small youth centre about three blocks away from the houses, "but after that… it's anyone's guess."

"And this is yours." A slight smile played across her lips. She was impressed; but this was barely the tip of the iceberg; by the end of it she would be horrified.

"I've narrowed it down to one of those three because we were _definitely_ on this road when Riley pulled the emergency stop."

"Well that's really good." Her smile quickly fell as she looked up at him again. "I still don't get what this means."

"Neither did I."

"Did or do?"

"Bit of both, actually."

"Okay…" Abigail turned her attention back to the map. "So what are these ones? These other places?"

"Well, this one is Riley's childhood home. At least that's what the papers said."

There was a disbelieving look twinkling in her eyes as she briefly surveyed the different documents scattered around. "Just the papers?"

"Riley may have mentioned it once or twice." She said nothing, simply raising an eyebrow at him. There she was again with the weird mind-reading thing. One of these days he was going to ask her how she did it. "Alright, he mentioned once how I could hack into some system or other to find something like this out."

"And you were paying attention?" Ben wasn't pleased by the shock in her voice.

"Unlike him I actually listen when my friends talk about something that truly interests them."

"Then how come you usually zone out when I'm talking?"

Ben paused, unsure if she was joking or not. The truth was most of what she said that interested her, he already knew; you didn't share a large mansion and an immense passion for history with someone without knowing an awful lot about them and their interests. Of course he'd never tell her that to her face, that'd be suicide. So he simply looked at her for a beat before rifling through the papers on the desk.

"According to _this _report," he held it aloft in the air when he found it, "there was a dead body found shot in an alley barely 500 yards from Riley's front yard, here, the weekend he went missing." the alley wasn't overly clear on the map but the pink crayon made it easier to identify. "Now I may be remembering this wrong but I'm pretty sure Joe said something about Riley mentioning a guy in an alley when questioned _after_ the incident."

"So you think it was the dead guy in the alley that Riley was talking about."

"I'm pretty sure."

"And that means what exactly?"

"Riley said he was in the house, point C, while he was missing. That's…seventeen blocks away from his own home. If I was thirteen I sure as hell wouldn't get that far on my own and I certainly wouldn't stay there. I think he may have been picked up by the person who killed the guy in the alley and taken to this house."

"Kidnapped?"

"It's more than likely." Abigail was starting to realise what was going on; what the two of them had been keeping from her and as Ben suspected, keeping it from her had been the right thing to do.

"But why? A ransom?"

"No. The family weren't contacted; no demands were made. But the report states that-"

"How did you get all these reports?"

"I told you, I listen, but that's not important. What is important is that the time of death was around about the same time Riley was last seen before he was reported missing."

"You think he saw the guy getting murdered?"

"And he was taken back to the killer's house to stop him from telling anyone." Ben paused. She'd want to know, but still… "He was beaten as well."

"You seem pretty certain."

"You didn't hear the list of injuries the kid was found with. And Joe's face as he said them…" That haunting look in the guy's eyes as he stared at some memory playing out before them…not something to easily be forgotten. "Trust me, Riley was beaten."

"And remembering this was why Riley had a meltdown." Abigail nodded knowingly but stopped when she saw Ben shaking his head. If only.

"Riley was fine, visibly shaken and that but otherwise okay with being in the house."

"So what happened?"

Ben sighed. He'd figured this out pretty early on. He had no proof of it other than Riley's reaction. Truthfully, he'd hoped he was wrong about it but there wasn't anything else he could think of.

"Ben."

"There was a body in the basement. A young boy. It was when Riley found it that he freaked. It'd been there…a while." This was one of the details she shouldn't have heard but what followed, what he'd realised, wouldn't make any sense without it.

"So…?" Ben shook his head slowly as he saw the look in her eyes. He didn't need to be able to read her mind to know what she was thinking this time; her mind had made the same leap that Ben's had at first; Riley was kept in a basement with a rotting body for a month, faced daily with the possibility that it would be him next. Morbid as it sounded, Ben had come to hope that was it but it just didn't fit with the kid's reaction. No, Ben suspected there was something worse and he knew Abigail did too; the hesitation in her voice was evidence enough for that.

"Oh my God!" the look on her face mirrored his first reaction only on a smaller scale as the extremity of it dawned on her.

Ben pulled her into an embrace and felt grateful that she hadn't actually been there. The smell of rotting flesh; the sight of a decomposing body; the terror at Riley shutting down…then breaking down. None of those were going away anytime soon, no matter what happened.

One thought kept sticking in his mind though; or to be more accurate one person. Riley.

"Twelve bottles…" he mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing." he shook his head. He hadn't told her about the alcohol; he was still struggling to get his head round that one himself. Besides there wasn't really any need for it; it wasn't that important to the bigger picture.

Abigail drew back and shrugged off Ben's arms. She wasn't crying; Abigail Chase was made of hard stuff. "So what now?"

"Well now we get someone in some sort of authoritative position to help us figure out which door the murderer's behind and have him arrested." He turned to Abigail. "That's where you come in."

"What? Me?" Ben knew this would be the tricky bit, convincing her to help him out here, but he was determined.

"If we want this to be done efficiently…and effectively and-and most importantly, quietly, Sadusky would be our best bet."

"So… Why can't _you_ do it?"

"You get on so much better with him than I do."

"Excuse me?" her mouth was drawn tight as she looked at him, anger burning in her eyes.

"I'm guessing from your face that that's the wrong thing to have said."

"What exactly are you insinuating, Ben?" her hands were placed on her hips and her entire demeanour was of pure malice.

"Me? Insinuating? I'm not insinuating anything."

"Do you think I don't know any other men besides you, Sadusky and Connor?"

Ben shook his head, he didn't care about this. "Abigail, we don't have time for this. Are you gonna make the call or not?"

"I don't get why you can't do it, Ben."

"Every time Sadusky gets a call from me it involves some major crime and he'll probably assume the worst." The resolute look in Abigail's eyes told Ben he was going to get nowhere with her. "Fine." He strode across the room and picked up the phone by the doorway. They had several phones; you need a fair few with such a large house otherwise it's like running a mile in order to answer one. "I'll call him. But if he decides to arrest me before I commit another felony then on your head b-"

He stopped as the phone started ringing in his hands.

* * *

"Hello? … Oh hello…" Abigail watched carefully as Ben answered the phone and his brow furrowed. "…What?" His eyes jumped up to the map. "…Is he alright?…What about you?" He looked sideways at her before he continued. "…No, I'm not doing anything…Sure…Sure, I'll come down…" He hung up.

"Who was that?" Ben was looking at the map again.

"I've gotta go." He said. "We'll do this," he indicated himself and her with the hand the phone was in, "later. We'll do it later." He threw the phone onto the desk before turning to stride out the door only to find Abigail stood in his way.

She stared him defiantly in the eye; she was sick of being kept out of the loop by him. Whether they were a couple now or not was irrelevant, she was his friend and felt as though she deserved to start being treated as such.

He returned the glare with a distinct frown. "I need to go, Abigail."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

Both of them stood there, neither one backing down. It would have gone on forever if Ben didn't need to get out of there. Besides, she had a right to know.

"That was Joe, Riley's brother." He didn't break eye-contact as he spoke. "Riley's been admitted to hospital."

"Oh my God! Is he alright?"

Ben sighed. "I need to go, Abigail."

Did that mean he didn't know? He'd asked Joe on the phone so probably not. He probably knew and wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible; which meant it was bad. Unless there was nothing to tell and Ben just wanted to see if his friend was alright; be a friend after their recent rocky road.

Whichever one was true, it didn't change what Abigail had to do. If Riley was badly hurt, Ben ought to be there regardless of what Abigail wanted to know. If not, these two had a lot they need to sort out.

She stepped aside. "You go. I'll call Sadusky."

"Thank you." Ben looked at her gratefully for a fleeting moment before passing out the door.

"Better late than never." Hopefully he didn't hear that.

In the silence of the study, surrounded by old books, numerous police reports and a now useless map, Abigail Chase looked around at her sudden solitude and the proof of the ignorance she'd been kept in over the last few weeks.

"At least I'm good for something."


	13. Revelations

**Disclaimer:** If I owned this I would be so goddam rich and this franchise would be known by more than 2 of my friends.

**Author's Notes:** Okay, so this has taken a while but I swear to God that this is worth it. This is draft number nine or twelve (can't remember which) and it kept failing. My bio buddy Lewis has been convincing me to get a move on because he wants to read it but won't until I've finished and I kinda promised it'd be completely done by now (but this isn't quite the end) but he's excited because every time I see him I'm like 'yeah it's working' or 'no, it's not'. Anyways I gotta go or this ain't gonna be done in time. Slight title change but it fits better. And thanks to reviewers and subscribers.

**Chapter Thirteen: Revelations**

**Song:** A Little Less Sixteen Candles A Little More Touch Me by Fall Out Boy

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We all believe ourselves to be invincible. Each of us expects to be able to handle any hardship that life may throw at us. So when it comes to the simplest task; when it comes to actually asking others for help with what we think we ought to be able to handle; we avoid it at all costs. Sometimes the hardest thing that any one person can do is admit that they're only human. **– Anon.**

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"Faker." There was a slight laugh and Riley kept praying that Ben would give up and go away. Things were still rocky between them and he really didn't want to face up to Ben right now. He really didn't. "Riley, I know you're awake."

Riley would have given anything for the hospital sheets to rise up and engulf him like some weird 80s sci-fi show but defiantly they stayed on the bed and they brushed against him as Ben sat down on the bed somewhere near his feet and took in a deep breath before slowly and carefully letting it out again.

"Look, I'm sorry." Oh no! It sounded as though he was planning on going into a long speech but Riley really didn't want to get into this now, like really, _really _didn't want to. Besides, his nose was starting to become really itchy and if he didn't scratch it soon he was going to go insane.

But Ben didn't say anything else. Instead there was silence. That wasn't expected; so much so that Riley almost opened his eyes to investigate before realising that would blow his cover which was probably Ben's plan.

"Glad to see you're alright, kid." He sounded sad. It's such a simple, small word and I wish I could go into more detail about the tone and style but there's little more I could say except that Ben sounded sad. He didn't sound distraught or upset; he didn't seem like he was angry or holding back tears; maybe there was a tiny hint of disappointment buried somewhere in there but really, he was just…sad.

There were ten more minutes of silence before Ben's weight lifted up off the end of the bed and there was a shuffling as the historian no doubt straightened himself out (or maybe waited to see if Riley would change his mind). Eventually there were footsteps leading to the foot of the bed where they hesitated for a moment before disappearing off.

Riley waited another five minutes before opening his eyes in case Ben decided to come back. Once they were open he glared after his friend.

There went a man who may…or may not…be his best friend; possibly the best friend he'd ever had…have, yet when he turned up at a hospital to see if he was alright Riley'd blanked him; shut him out. Riley wasn't entirely sure why he'd done it, it was just easier to not have to face it yet; taking things one thing at a time was going to be difficult enough but it'd be better than everything at once especially once Ben got involved. Still…

Riley sighed, closing his eyes and a single solitary tear that he'd been unaware was building up, broke free and made its way down his cheek where it clung to his chin for a few moments before plopping onto the bed sheet beneath him.

_I hate my life._

* * *

There wasn't any major damage. Severe bruising, fractured rib, minor concussion, fractured leg; nothing life-threatening. All he needed was a bit of time to rest and the damage would soon heal up.

Except Riley knew it wasn't that simple. Sure the physical damage would go away eventually but the stonking great mess of memories and forgotten feelings of fear needed sorting out; except he didn't want to face it any time soon, no thank you. Thing was, it wasn't something that was going to go away when it was ignored, like Ben; it sat there like a huge weight on his chest, but that could just have been some sort of phantom weight brought about by the bruising. Whichever way he was aware of it, the mess was always there, taunting him with what he'd always known but never remembered.

Knowing it was there was enough to put him on the verge of tears every single moment he was awake.

Joe was there too. He'd probably be there as constantly as the mess if the hospital staff didn't bundle him out of the building every evening and more or less order him to have some semblance of a normal life. Otherwise, for as long as permitted, Riley's brother was sat on the only chair next to his hospital bed; most of the time he'd slouch in the chair and talk nonchalantly about Mary and Pam or how he'd had to order Annie to not get on the next plane from Spain after calling her to let her know what was going on or how his next door neighbour Mrs. Dodie sent her regards, despite never having met Riley.

From the description Joe was giving of how she was normally, old, irritable and difficult, it sounded like she would be a perfect match for Mr. Chesney; they should set them up on a date or something. Normally he would have pointed this out but he didn't feel up to hearing Joe's fake laugh again; his brother's fake laugh which he used when his mind was truthfully distracted from the hilarity at hand and caught up in something more serious; a throaty chortle that could be mistaken for a real laugh if you're not paying attention. Most older siblings have one they use around the younger ones so they don't know when something's wrong…until they figure it out themselves; then it's like sounding a klaxon around them; they know something's wrong.

Riley knew Joe was worried for him, he'd heard him mention it to the nurses enough times, and knowing that just added to the mess. But the worst of it was when Riley's brother thought he was asleep and let his elbows rest on his knees, his face fall into his hands and the tears flow down his arms. Every once in a while a cry would start before being quickly stifled and swallowed back; the sobs _never_ escaped, carefully controlled to prevent them from 'waking' Riley.

That was partly why Riley didn't like the sedatives the doctors were giving him. That and when they wore off basically every part of him started to hurt like a bitch and until they shot him up with them again he had to go on through the pain, the mess and the tears.

It really did suck to be him.

* * *

It was about two and a half weeks before Riley was given the all clear to leave the hospital. The immediate dangers were gone and he was all but completely healed. The bruises hadn't completely gone but they'd faded to a kind of yellowy-brown that didn't look healthy but certainly looked healthier than they had before, and it felt like he'd pulled a few muscles but otherwise they were harmless.

Joe had offered several times to set him up in the spare room for a while but Riley just wanted to be alone for now. But of course, as pretty much everyone knows, what one wants and what one gets are two completely different things.

Pulling up opposite his apartment block again, he turned the engine off and took out the keys. He didn't make any move to get out though, instead gazing up at the building. Despite having lived there for some years now, it's hard to remember how many really but it had been a fair few, he didn't know which window was his. It was something he'd have to find out.

Walking up the stairs, he rifled through his pockets for the apartment key. Where was it? Old pack of gum; piece of lint, how'd those get in pockets anyway; seventeen cents in change; he wouldn't put it past Joe to steal his keys so he had to stay with his brother; no wait. Triumphantly he pulled them from his pocket as he approached the door. Score one for Riley.

Entering his apartment was amazing; it just felt good to be somewhere familiar and safe. He was all for hospitals being a place of healing but they were so impersonal and formal. Okay so the less-than-hygienic confines of Riley's apartment would probably make him more ill but at least it was more homely and lived-in. He may suffer but at least he would suffer in comfort. Mind you he'd prefer it if he didn't suffer at all.

Three steps into the apartment and he stopped in his tracks. Ben was sat on his couch, looking over his shoulder at him with a slight smile.

"Hey Riley." Riley furrowed his brow.

"How'd you get in?"

"Same way I got in last time. I have a key." Duh! Of course!

"That's for emergencies." Ben paused in thought for a moment before nodding.

"I think my actions were justified."

"Sure, Ben." He started to roll his eyes but closed them. "Whatever." He shuffled into the bedroom. Clean clothes were a good idea; he was still wearing Joe's shirt and his sweats and although they weren't covered in blood or anything particularly nasty, the prospect of wearing something new had a great appeal to him. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I thought you might not want to come back to an alcohol-smelling apartment." Riley eyed the freshly made bed and the distinct lack of Riley type mess clogging up the floor disbelievingly.

"Sure." Riley shook his head; Ben had cleaned up a bit more than the smell of alcohol. He opened a drawer and pulled out the nearest shirt to hand and dragged a pair of jeans out of another drawer before pulling them on. "What else?" Walking back into the living room he took a deep breath, it was nice to be home.

"I'm not allowed to visit my friend after he's been discharged from hospital?"

Riley opened his mouth to say something that would no doubt have been wonderfully witty yet at the same time unbelievably annoying but the comment died in his throat. "What happened to your face?"

"Charming, Riley. As always." Ben shifted uncomfortably and Riley could tell Ben was avoiding the question; he'd done enough times to recognise the signs.

"Seriously, Ben. Have you seen yourself?" On the right side of his face there was a large bruise developing across most of the cheek and his eye was slightly swollen. "What the hell happened?"

"It's nothing. I fell." Riley snorted and raised an eyebrow. He didn't believe that for a second and Ben knew it too but the historian just shrugged at him. "I got into a bit of a fight, that's all."

"With what? A Buick?"

"Geez, is it really that bad?" he laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck while sheepishly gazing at the floor.

"No." It didn't actually; the swelling wasn't too bad and the bruise was only a slight purple and didn't seem too bad, almost like he'd just caught the sun or something. "It was just a bit of a shock, you know." Whatever it was that had happened, Ben really didn't seem to want to talk about it. "Did you win?"

"What?"

"The fight. Did you win?"

Ben's eyes scanned the ceiling and Riley resisted the urge to look up and see if the answer was written up there. "I guess not. No."

"It was with Joe wasn't it."

Ben looked at him confused. "I don't-"

"I overheard him complaining to the nurses about letting you visit me." The historian smiled sadly. "Thing is Joe's a mellow kinda guy. You must've really pissed him off."

"To put it mildly."

Riley looked at his friend. Since he'd arrived in the apartment Ben had yet to make eye contact with him and it was unnerving. Why wasn't Ben looking at him? He was supposed to be the one who was emotionally distraught.

"Why'd he do it?"

"It doesn't matter." He waved it away with a flick of his hand. "What does matter is that he missed."

"Really?" His eyebrows rose in shock as Ben nodded. "That's not like Joe."

"He said he was going to break my nose." He tapped just below his right eye where the centre of the bruise was. "Hit here instead."

"Whoa. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Anyway, that's not why I'm here."

Riley groaned inwardly. Ben was going to try and make this into a heart-to-heart wasn't he? He was going to try and get Riley to talk about what was going on but he'd only just started to forget about it. Why couldn't he just leave it alone?

* * *

Ben watched as the kid's face fell from semi-happiness to downright despair. He didn't need to be Abigail to know what was going to come out of the kid's mouth next.

"Look, Ben. I get that you want to be there for me and that, and I really do appreciate it, but can't we leave this talk for some other time."

"Okay."

"I mean, I just got of hospital and- wait. What did you say?"

"I said 'okay'." Riley stared at him in disbelief. "I'm only here because I thought you'd want to know that Damon Scott was arrested last week."

"Who?"

"Damon Scott. He's an alcoholic who used to beat his wife and was the prime-suspect in the kidnap of his son." Riley failed to see why he would want to know that and shrugged at Ben who paused. "His son who was named Thomas Scott."

Riley's brow furrowed in disbelief for a moment and he paused in hesitation before he spoke. "…No way." Ben quietly smirked as he nodded, carefully assessing every emotion that crossed the kid's face. Some of them were passing by too quickly for Ben to try and figure them out but the one he noticed the most was a cross between confusion and what he hoped was some sort of relief.

Ben shrugged dismissively when Riley finally managed to settle his gaze on him. "Not just an article."

"I mean…I-I-I-I mean that…Y-Y-Y-You didn't…Wha-What I mean is…" Riley closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "…Arrested?"

"Several charges of assault, two counts of kidnap and two of murder."

"…right." He nodded with his eyes still closed and tilted his head to the side. "_Two_ murders?"

"His son and the guy in the alleyway."

"Oh yeah." Riley let out a high-pitched nervous laugh which to be honest was a little creepy. In fact he still hadn't opened his eyes and was starting to sway on the spot.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm-I'm-I'm good." He nodded but nearly fell over as the movement made him sway more. "Should probably sit down though." Ben grabbed Riley's shoulder and steered him towards a dining chair before the kid fell to the floor.

"Just remember to breathe."

"That would be helpful."

For a few minutes Ben stood just behind Riley keeping one hand on the kid's shoulder as he drew in long and slightly shaky breaths. Truthfully the historian wanted to do more for his friend but wasn't quite sure where the two of them stood. Riley had been confused when they'd had their argument and at the time he'd just dismissed it as that; confusion; but Ben'd had time to think it over and there'd actually been a lot of truth in what he'd said. Thinking about it, it's a wonder Riley never mentioned it before; maybe not as a big rant because that wasn't Riley's style but surely it would've come out as some sort of moan or whine or complaint.

"Well er…that's what I came to say." He patted Riley on the shoulder before slowly making his way to the door. "I'll just-"

"Oh my God." Riley jerked round suddenly until he was facing Ben with a look of horror on his face. "Your car!"

"What?"

"I stole your car. Oh my God, Ben. I _stole _your car."

"You just borrowed it." Ben shrugged. He'd got a rental, sick of being ferried around by Abigail almost immediately. Besides, it's not like he couldn't afford it. "It's no big deal."

"It's still at Joe's." he took a deep shaky breath. "Ben, I am _so_ sorry. I'll bring it round tomorrow."

"No, really it's fine."

"I mean, it's not like _you _can get it, Joe'll probably try to hit you again."

"Riley!" the kid jumped slightly but Ben didn't regret it; he was starting to get hysterical and was only going to end up making himself sick. "Seriously. Don't worry about it."

"Right." Ben watched as Riley looked at him intently before nodding and then closing his eyes again. "Okay." He took in another deep breath. "Not worrying. Check."

"And you're still breathing." He shrugged offering his hands up in the air to show the light-hearted nature of what he was saying.

"More's the wonder." Riley laughed and Ben saw him smile, and I mean an actual genuine smile not one of those fake forced ones he'd seen when they'd first started this conversation. And although Ben didn't know it, it was the first smile in a long time that Riley had actually felt. "Thanks for breaking into my apartment to tell me this Ben."

Ben laughed. That was probably the most Riley thing he'd heard the kid say since this whole nightmare had begun.

* * *

"Look," Riley stood up and turned to Ben. He had to nip the possible interrogation in the bud or it wouldn't stop, "I know you've probably got a lot of questions, but I really-"

"D'you still have my cell number?"

"What?" the question caught Riley off-guard and Ben just raised his eyebrows at him. "Er, yeah."

"You feel the urge, day or night, just ring that number."

"Are you sure about that?" Ben nodded with quiet confidence. "So even if it's three in the morning…?"

Ben paused in thought for a moment and Riley thought maybe the guy would reconsider his offer. "I'm not saying I'll be happy…but sure. Even at three in the morning."

Riley felt his mouth stretch into a smile again. "Thanks, Ben." Ben returned the smile before looking at his watch.

"Geez. I better go." He headed to the door. "I told Abigail I was popping out to get the milk and that was five hours ago."

"You've been in my apartment for five hours?" Riley wasn't sure whether he saw that as an invasion of his privacy or a sign of friendship. Oh God! He hoped it wasn't an expression of guilt after their big argument.

Ben just smiled as he left. "Riley, you are _so_ gullible."


	14. Wake Up Call

**Disclaimer:** Wow! I actually have time to do this for once. Well, whether I've time or not doesn't change that nothing to do with National Treasure is mine which includes characters, plot (like I'm clever enough to think of all those clues), name or pretty much anything to do with. All in this story which is mine are my OCs and none of them are even in this chapter (I think)

**A/N:** This update's a long time coming but there's been a lot of exam preparation going on and loads of reshuffling of this chapter. Most of what happens has stayed the same but the order in which it happens has changed. So thanks for sticking with it this long and I gotta admit I am taken aback by this story's popularity and the responses I've had. It feels like a great opportunity to throw another thank you in LoremIpsum's direction for the original idea, idea prodding during development even if I didn't use the ideas and pointing out when I took the path oft-trodden. Also to all my reviewers, subscribers and the peeps who've faved it when it's not even finished; a huge, heart-felt thank you. Hope this is alright. You know what to do.

**Chapter**** Fourteen: Wake Up Call**

**Song:** Changes by David Bowie

_

* * *

_

I know there's so much more to what I think I see/ I feel a change and the strange thing is it's part of me – _**Ready To Go from Me and My Dick**_

* * *

You don't need to be a genius to know who Benjamin Franklin Gates was named after. His parents lucked out that their passion for history lead to them picking a name that their son would grow into so well. Of course neither of his parents were surprised that he grew up to become as determined and persistent as his namesake as they were family traits both of them possessed which were both the best and worst things about them as either one would tell you.

Ben was a man of action but when, three weeks after the trial of Damon Scott had ended with a guilty on all charges verdict, his cell phone still hadn't rung at some ungodly hour with the caller's id of Riley he had no idea what he could do. Confrontation with the kid would only end badly for everyone involved but what else was there?

The point I am trying to convey to you, as if you didn't already know, is that Ben Gates was not someone to sit back and let things happen if he could help it and that was why he didn't like it when Abigail accused him of being a poor friend to Riley.

Abigail certainly wasn't shy to express her dissatisfaction at Ben's laissez-faire attitude towards Riley's self-seclusion going out of her way to do so on numerous occasions. It was her belief that Ben should be taking a more pro-active role in Riley's road to recovery and return to reality despite their many 'loud debates' in which Ben explained that Riley was a big boy now who didn't need his nose wiping every time he sneezed. Unfortunately the metaphor had gone straight over Abigail's head which had led to her winning that particular argument; don't ask me how, that's just the way it went.

They were having yet another silent dinner together, as neither much wanted to make conversation, when Abigail began to get terribly fidgety which most certainly didn't bode well for Ben. Every so often she would throw him menacing glares which rang stonking great warning bells in his head. The woman looked about ready to explode and this time he was far less willing to just sit back and take it. You see, Ben had his good days when he just kept going and when Abigail had a go he'd nod his head and say yes to everything she said; then he'd have his bad days when everything that she said to try and get a reaction from him worked far too well. Those were the times that they ended up shouting or screaming at each other.

Abigail's fork slammed to the table with a sharp clatter.

_Here we go._

"When are you going to do something, Ben?" she pushed her entire plate out of the way completely foregoing the pretence of the meal. "When are you going to call him? Or go round to help him?"

He paused, a piece of cauliflower halfway to his mouth. "I already told you; _he's_ going to call _me_."

"Why does _he _have to make the first move?"

He placed the vegetable in his mouth and chewed it quickly before swallowing. "I already _made _the first move, Abigail."

"Yeah." She nodded, her mouth pulled into a disapproving frown. "You gave him your cell number. _Great move_, Ben."

"Abigail-"

"If your mother was here she'd tell you that you're as bad as Patrick!"

"Well my mother _isn't _here, is she?"

"Giving up before you've even _got_ anywhere."

Ben set his fork on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Not now, Abigail, please."

"Then when? When Ben? When are we gonna do this? Tomorrow? Next week? Next year? Once Riley's moved awa-"

"We've already _done_ this!" he cut across her before she could finish that ridiculous thought. "Alright? We've done it and we both know how it's going to end if you keep it on like this so stop it!"

"He's supposed to be your-"

"Stop it!" Ben slammed his fist on the table and watched Abigail flinch at the reverberations that ran through it. She looked stunned as he stood up to leave the room. If he stuck around, there was going to be nothing but arguing and lecturing and lots of unnecessary stuff being brought up for no good reason other than to win the argument.

As he reached the door he stopped, looking over his shoulder at her. She didn't mean any harm; was only looking out for Riley but she didn't understand what was really going on here. If it was only about the trial then Ben would have been round Riley's place less than a week after it'd finished.

And with that he left.

* * *

THUD! THUD! THUD!

"POOLE!"

THUD! THUD! THUD!

"TURN IT DOWN, POOLE!"

THUD! THUD! THUD!

"I'LL BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR!

THUD!

"YOU KNOW I WILL!"

THUD! THUD!

"DAMN IT, POOLE!"

Riley struggled to suppress his laughter as he sat in a comfy chair that he'd moved opposite the door watching it shake in its frame under Mr. Chesney's battering. In his right hand he held a small bag of microwave popcorn and in his left was his television remote. The television was on but, again, he had no idea what was on it; it didn't really matter so long as it was loud. You know, he couldn't quite place it but there was something ultimately satisfying about annoying the heck out of the old guy.

THUD! THUD!

"POOLE!"

THUD!

He tipped the bag up so that a few pieces of popcorn slid across the paper and landed in his mouth. The bag was tiny but somehow he'd made it last the last twenty minutes. Mind you, that was mainly because the snack was salted and if he ate it all in one go he'd have to walk to the kitchen for a soda and end up missing a precious moment or two of increasing Mr. Chesney's blood pressure.

THUD! THUD!

"POOLE! POOLE I'M…"

The yelling stopped and the door stopped shaking. Riley's brow furrowed in confusion and after another few minutes of nothing he turned down the volume. No other sound, at least none that he could hear. Turning the TV off, he jumped up out of his seat and threw the remote to the side, flinching as it collided with a lamp nearly knocking it off the small side table it stood on.

Silently he passed over to the door but he still didn't hear anything. This wasn't how things were supposed to work; he made loud noise, Mr. Chesney made equally loud noise and fuss in return which resulted in endless hours of hilarity and provided more than enough entertainment to prevent any need to leave his apartment for anything other than groceries. That was a point though; the bag of popcorn that he'd thrown aside was actually the last of his edible food and most of the remainders of that were scattered across his floor.

Cursing at his sudden realization, he tried to shrug it off as he put his ear to the door. Mr. Chesney's voice was discernable although it was quite freaky to hear it at a non-ear-shattering level but nothing else was going on out there as far as he could tell. Pressing his ear closer to door he managed to hear his disgruntled neighbor's footsteps and muttering move away down the corridor.

What the hell was happening? Why was he going? Had he given up? Had Riley finally won? If he had, what had he won?

BANG!

Riley jumped back knocking the side of his couch with his leg causing it to cramp up in pain.

"Riley?" a feminine voice that was definitely not Mr. Chesney came through the door. "It's Abigail."

"Abigail?" he held a hand to his leg and hobbled over to the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to visit a friend."

It couldn't be Abigail, could it? She'd normally be sounding a little bit cranky by the third response but her voice was cool and calm with little, if any, irritation.

He reached up to the lock and opened the door to see her standing on the other side with a sad smile on her face.

"Can I come in?"

"I'd offer you a drink but I'm fresh out of…well, pretty much everything." Riley called from the kitchen as Abigail sat down on the couch.

The apartment wasn't as bad as she'd expected. Mind you, she'd probably expected the kind of hovel that kids like Riley lived in at college; crusted plates on every surface, smelly laundry stuffed in a corner and fast food rubbish absolutely everywhere. But no, the only mess was a small pile of popcorn that he'd most likely dropped when she started knocking and it was really clean. She meant no real offense to Riley but she'd never really pegged him for a clean person. Then again, how much did she really know about him?

"Your TV was quite loud, you know."

"Yes, I do know."

"Mr. Chesney says you're television is often turned up to a high volume."

"Well, everybody's gotta have a hobby." He came in holding a glass of water which he held out to her. "This is pretty much all I got in." he shrugged apologetically as she took it. "Sorry."

"No, that's fine." She tentatively took a sip, genuinely unsure of what she was expecting from it. I mean, come on, it's just a glass of water. "You really shouldn't torture him like that."

Riley practically fell back into the chair that he'd dragged from opposite the door to opposite Abigail. "I refuse to apologize for art."

"Wait, what?" Abigail frowned in confusion. Did what he just said make any sort of sense?

He smiled impishly at her and she couldn't help but wonder when the last time she'd seen him look that much like himself. Quickly though it was gone and he leant forward in his chair.

"Why are you here, Abigail?"

Taking another sip of water she repeated what she'd said earlier. "I'm visiting a friend."

He scoffed. "Bullshit." She raised her eyebrows as she placed the glass on the table beside her. Alright so he was twenty seven, or was he twenty-eight now, and more than able to swear but she'd never heard him do so before, not even when they were in mortal peril. In short, it was a shock. "Abigail, in the three or more years that you've known me, you haven't once come round to see me. Not once, and you expect me to believe you just out of the blue decided to come round?"

"Alright." Damn. She'd hoped she wouldn't be so see-through. Oh well. If the subtle approach wasn't going to work then maybe it was best to come right out with it. "I want to know when you're going to snap out it."

"What?"

"It's been…what? Nearly a year since this whole thing started and you're still moping around like pretending it's not happening will suddenly make it real."

The smile was completely gone and his mouth was a thin line. Maybe that approach was a little too direct, but it was certainly a little too late to worry about it.

"A whole year? Well, doesn't the time just fly by?" he didn't look happy at all and part of Abigail regretted it but the rest of her was after a result. "Well, Abigail," and he filled her name with such spite it was practically venomous, "it may be a while since it started but it's barely been three weeks since it finished."

Abigail shook her head angrily. "But it's not finished Riley, is it?" Riley didn't reply and she honestly didn't know whether he didn't have one or because he just didn't want to admit it. "You're still moping around your apartment and doing nothing about sorting yourself out."

"I can sort myself out in my own time."

"If you say so but you're not the only one this whole thing's affected, Riley." Her fist was clenched on her knee and she was trying to stop from jumping up and smacking some sense into him. That's when she saw the perfect time to bring up the reason she'd brought this up in the first place. "What about Ben?"

That certainly caught him off-guard and he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a goldfish before he spoke. "Ben?"

"You told him nothing about what was going on and so he pieced together the puzzle." Riley glared at her, but the anger wasn't as intense as before. "And he's the reason it all started. Don't you think he's going to feel even a little bit guilty about bringing all this stuff up for you?" His eyes softened again but there was still an element of anger. "He wants to help you cope but he's terrified of offering help…he's scared of making any sort of move in case he makes things worse!" Riley turned his eyes away from her focusing his attention on some part of the couch to her right instead. "He's trying to learn from his mistakes, Riley, but you're ignoring yours!"

She stopped.

She waited, hoping he would say something to fill the silence; an angry jibe, a sarcastic comment, a snort, anything but no; he stayed silent as she gazed at him.

Eventually she gave up waiting for what was probably never going to come and stood up. There was no point continuing a one-sided argument. She'd said what she'd needed and it was better to leave it at that rather than risk putting her foot in it. Of course, that's assuming she hadn't done so already.

"I'll see myself out." He didn't look at her, his mind lost in whatever thought process it was following right now.

There was no doubt that this conversation was ended but she'd expected more of a response from Riley. Normally he'd have argued with her or shouted at her or something in opposition to her view but nothing.

As she left through the door and closed it behind her she began to wonder if she'd actually done the right thing.

* * *

It was two nights later; Riley was sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands and in one of them he was clutching the phone.

The clock on the bedside table said that it was 2:48 am and he'd been sat there for at least an hour. He didn't want to do this; he probably wouldn't if Abigail hadn't come round the other day. Scenarios kept running through his head of each other possibility he could take. Most of them seemed much more appealing than this one but this was the only real choice.

2:48 am is early though. It's like really early, even for Ben and Ben does early like every day because he somehow inherited insomnia from his dad or something. He should probably wait until morning. Yeah, he'd wait until morning; by which time he'd have talked himself out of this whole hare-brained idea. He lowered his hands and shook his head. That wasn't an option; well it was but this had to be done. But still, it _was_ really early.

Alright so Ben had said 'anytime' even if it meant early in the morning but Riley really was pulling at straws to try and stop himself from doing this. Every step in the 'right direction' so far had taken him five steps down the wrong road. How could he be sure this wouldn't do the same thing? Then again he hadn't with the other decisions and yet he'd taken those steps, hadn't he? Trial and error. If one road doesn't work then try another until you find the right one.

_Dear God,_ thought Riley, _I'm starting to sound like dad._

He laughed at the thought of all the corny lines his dad used to come out with but the distraction didn't last long and his mind settled again.

He'd had nightmares more or less every night that he actually managed to fall asleep since he'd come out of hospital. They were always different things but each of them terrified him. Sometimes he'd be back in that basement being beaten or seeing Tommy die (pretty damn frequent during the trial), others he'd be with his brother and although nothing bad would happen per se, there was this constant feeling of dread sitting in his chest, especially when Mary came into the room.

More and more lately he'd been shown things by his unconscious mind that he'd rather not see and every time it was in such a horrific manner that he kept having to sit up and take notice. To be honest, he was getting sick of it.

Then there was the one that he'd had probably three times before. Ben would be with him somewhere; at the mansion, in Riley's apartment, or once during one of their treasure hunts, and they'd be laughing, chatting, generally having a good time; but then Riley'd look away for a split second, a split, split second and Ben was just gone. Nowhere to be seen and anything he'd been there with was gone too. Completely and utterly gone, like he was never there at all. That was the nightmare he'd just woken up from.

It always left him with a tightness in his chest that didn't want to shift, preferring to stay around for several hours once he was awake. There was no point sitting around thinking about what it was trying to say; it was obvious. There was no doubt as to the only way this was going to end but he was scared. No, wait. If it was only that he was scared then sorting himself out would be easier, surely. No; he wasn't just scared; he was terrified.

He took a deep breath and let it out in a long, drawn-out sigh.

_Alright, Riley. You got a choice__. Call Ben or don't. Dial the number of put down the phone. Ask for help or… _he closed his eyes again and rubbed them with his fingers before pinching the bridge of his nose. _Just pick one already. It doesn't really matter. Either way, you're _not _gonna get any sleep tonight._

He could feel the weight of the phone in his hand and could almost imagine a small cartoony-like voice telling him to dial.

_No more Saturday morning cartoons__ for me._

Slowly, he took in another deep breath and focused on letting it out slowly and quietly. It was right though; the idea of calling Ben, not the talking phone; and he thought of that as his fingers traced over the buttons.

_Now or never, Riley._

* * *

The phone was ringing.

Ben wearily lifted his face up off the pillow to glance at the clock.

3:14

Quarter past three.

In the morning.

When pretty much everyone was asleep.

And his phone was ringing.

It was still ringing in fact as it had now been two minutes since it had started; Ben wasn't so quick on the thinking side of things when he was sleep-deprived and his phone went off in the middle of the night. Luckily it wasn't something that happened all too often but that didn't stop it being annoying and very unwanted now.

He buried his face back in the pillow and brought it up around his ears in an attempt to block out the shrill ringing. It was too early (or too late) to answer it and the phone was on the other side of the room anyway.

_Let the machine get it. Or Abigail._

The night was warm and it had taken long enough for Ben to finally fall asleep the first time around; it'd be damn near impossible now.

It was completely Abigail's fault, bringing up all that rubbish at dinner. Alright, so it'd been a day ago but it was still running through his mind making it too busy in there to settle down. I mean, where did she get off telling him how to be a friend? What did she know about what was going on? Nothing. How well did she know Riley? Nowhere near as much as Ben did that's for sure.

It was just so infuriating that she was sticking her nose into things that she knew nothing about and that were none of her business. Did he stick his nose into her affairs? Not in the least; not that he had much of a choice. She kind of insisted that she have some kind of a life outside Riley and Ben that they didn't get involved with at all so there were friends and outings that they were completely unaware of.

But that's not the point. The point is she doesn't have the right to tell him how to sort out his own problems.

The ringing stopped and the machine message started playing. Figured. Abigail could sleep through a volcanic eruption so it was unlikely she'd ever be woken by something so trivial as a ringing telephone.

"…_Um…Hi…It's uh…It's Riley."_

Ben's brow furrowed as he slowly sat up. Riley?

"_Look I know it's late but…uh…well, I…__" _there was a sigh.

This was it, wasn't it? This was Riley calling him like he'd suggested. The call for help. The 'I'm still your friend' call.

Ben looked at the clock again. He'd honestly thought Riley was joking about the three in the morning thing. Then again the kid _was _somewhat of an insomniac; something to do with working with computers a lot.

"_Um, Ben? If you're there…" _the voice trailed off and was followed by another sigh.

In a flash, Ben swung his legs off the bed and tripped up over the duvet cover tangled in his legs. Slamming on the floor was painful but that he was more concerned with the continuing message.

"_You know what, forget it. I shouldn't of called."_

He was going to hang up!

"Wait!" Hurriedly Ben attempted to disentangle himself from the duvet as the phone ignored his cry before hobbling across the room to pick up the phone as Riley spoke again. "Wait! Wait! Wait!" he pressed a button and Riley's voice continued right into his ear.

"_Sorry if I wo-"_

"Riley!"

…

* * *

…

Neither one knew what to say. Riley hadn't expected Ben to interrupt the machine and Ben hadn't expected the phone call to come so the both of them were unprepared for this eventuality.

"You know, one of us ought to say something." Riley's mouth spread into a nervous smile as he chuckled dryly. "Isn't that how phone conversations usually work?"

"How are you?" Ben tried to fit all his concerns and the other burning questions that were running through his head into those three words.

Riley took in a deep breath and rubbed his face with his free hand. How could he say this without worrying Ben too much? "I've been better."

Ben noticed the hesitation but tried not to dwell on it. "D'you want me to come over?" He could hear Riley's vigorous head-shake through the ear-piece.

"I'm sick of us fighting at my place."

Ben breathed in through his nose and ran his tongue across the back of his front teeth before speaking. "So…you think we're…that we're gonna fight?"

Riley sighed. This was going better than he had anticipated but things could very easily become very complicated. "I know that if I think that we're not then we will, so I'm hoping thinking we will means we won't." He frowned. "I'm sure there's some sense in that statement somewhere."

Ben chuckled. The kid sounded more and more like the Riley he knew with every thing he said. "Well, if you _are _going to make phone calls at three in the morning…"

"It's Abigail's fault!" Or at least that's what Riley thought. Stupid Abigail.

"Really?"

"What?"

Ben shook his head with a smirk on his face quite grateful that Riley couldn't see him. "Nothing."

Riley sighed. "Look, I know it's late and that but…" he was going to say no. He knew it. He could feel it. After all Ben hadn't been overly eager to bring Riley back into 'family'. The historian was just gonna laugh and ask if this was a joke but he'd already started asking and Ben would never let it go unless he said it now. "…is it alright if I come over?"

This phone call was the one he'd been waiting for for over six months, so there was only way to reply to that question "Sure. I'm having trouble sleeping anyway."

Riley straightened up, slightly taken aback by the response. "Are you sure?

"Abigail's dead to the world in her room and it's just too hot for me to sleep."

"I mean, I'm sure it can wait till morning."

Ben looked at his clock. "Riley. It's _been_ morning for three hours and forty minutes. If you want to come over then just come over."

Riley groaned. He felt obliged didn't he? Like he would be judged if he didn't say yes. Shit!

"I could use the company."

Closing his eyes, Riley cursed himself. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? To start talking to Ben again? To not be alone almost all of the time? So why oh why was he arguing? "If you're sure…" He nodded to himself. That was better; non-committal yet with a touch of 'help me!' thrown in there for good measure.

Shaking his head Ben smiled. "I'm sure, Riley. Now can I expect your company or will it be a sleepless night for one?"

The edge of Riley's mouth twitched up before extending into a full-blown smile. He couldn't help it; it just felt like it went with what he was going to say next. "Save me a seat."

* * *

Ben didn't notice the door open a crack as he walked past it to go down to the kitchen. And, as he didn't notice the crack, he was unaware of the blue eye watching through it from the other side.

Slowly, a wide smile grew on Abigail Chase's face.

_Mission Accomplished._


	15. At Long Last

**Disclaimer:** I truly and honestly don't own the movies, characters and occupations.

**A/N:** So firstly, RedBrickandIvy said I ought to mention the fact that National Treasure 3 isn't coming out until 2014, 10 years after the first one, which is ridiculous. I know this update is close enough to being 11 months overdue but between starting university and mild mind block, I've finally done it and this story is finished. Yes, this is the last chapter so there are a few people to thank like LoremIpsum for suggesting I run with this story after a comment in Three Sides, RedBrickandIvy for being my constant consort despite being 5 (or as it is the minute 8) hours behind me and of course everybody who has read, reviewed, subscribed or favourited this story. Thank you everybody for your support.

**Additional A/N:** Also this is a semi-birthday present for Burkle so yeah, Happy Birthday.

**Chapter Fifteen: At Long Last**

**Song: **Happy Ending by Mika

* * *

The man who lives only by hope shall surely die by despair **– Italian Proverb**

Sometimes only a stumble can prevent a fall **– English Proverb**

* * *

The pale blue sky was slowly being overtaken by a growing golden haze heralding the true lateness of the hour; or earliness, depending how you looked at it.

Riley's fingers closed round the mug that Ben had brought into the living room and placed in his hands not ten minutes beforehand. The contents were warm and the heat seeped into his chilled hands slowly bringing back some feeling in them. His gaze however was fixed on the view outside the window.

Sunrise would be soon and, as exhausted as he felt, Riley couldn't help appreciating the view. That was the problem with his own place, you'd couldn't really see far enough outside.

"I see you came in your ferrari."

Turning, he saw Ben settle into the other chair, armed with his own steaming mug.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Ben raised an eyebrow and Riley shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, I didn't want to fall asleep at the wheel, did I?" He couldn't help but smirk a little as he turned back to the window, and he didn't need to be a genius to figure that Ben would most likely have seen it.

They both knew why he had _really _come in the Ferrari.

It had been far too long since he'd last sat behind the wheel of his gorgeous red 360 spyder. It hadn't seemed right. Even tonight he hadn't considered driving it; at least until he'd caught a glimpse of the keys on the side table by the door.

Whizzing through the streets at ridiculous speeds, he had gripped the familiar steering wheel between his fingers and they had fitted so perfectly it was almost as though he'd never been away from it at all; although the somewhat stale smell that lingered above the seats clearly indicated the truth. Still, the smell was nothing that a little time driving with the top down couldn't soon take care of.

His smile grew at the memory of the wind gently ruffling his hair as he swept through the early morning air. It was a feeling he hoped to not soon forget again.

"So… Basically…" No, that wasn't right. "I don't…" That would only sound cheesy. Riley took a swig from his drink, searching desperately within his own head for the right way to say it.

After another swig he sighed, he'd just have to say something and if it sounded stupid he'd just have to live with it. I mean, that had worked so far…sort of.

"You." He pointed at Ben. "You don't need to say anything. At least not yet. Just-Just listen, okay?" A combination of fear, embarrassment and fatigue was swirling around in his head causing a slight delirium for which he was more grateful than he'd probably ever admit. "I'm sorry, Ben." And like that, he'd said it. But it didn't seem enough, not really. "I've been…really stupid since this started. Really, really stupid."

"Stupid's a bit strong."

"It _really_ isn't." His eyes fell to his steaming mug as he slowly recalled the annoyingly-numerous times he'd been stupid, hazy as the memories were. "I knew this was going to be…"

_-"Get out!" SMASH!_

"I didn't want to find out…"

-"…obviously wasn't important enough…"

"…what happened but I went along anyway. And…"

_-"…it's too busy revolving around _you_!"_

His head fell back against the chair as the last one weighed heavy on him. He hadn't meant that one, more than all the others he'd said. "Shit."

"I understand."

"Shush!" Riley pointed at Ben with an accusatory finger. "I'm talking now." The finger dropped as the boy sighed. "It…the stuff…it was difficult, yes…but I should've dealt with it; I mean I'm a grown man, right?" He leant forward, obviously looking for a response this time.

Ben shrugged. "It was a pretty traumatic experience, Riley."

"I turned into an alcoholic." He purposely held forward one finger. "I threw a bottle at you. _Hard_." A second finger joined the first one. "My _brother_ broke your nose." Three fingers. Riley looked at them with a sense of solemnity.

"In your defence, he did warn me about that."

"It doesn't matter." His gaze fell to his knees again as he lowered his hand. "Fourteen years." Closing his eyes he shook his head. "It's done." There was a small glint of something as his bright blue eyes opened again. "And now, I can move on." The smallest of hopeful smiles grew on Riley's faces, stopping once it was nearly big enough to be a smile in its own right. "Hopefully."

Still grinning, Riley took a shy swig of his drink, half-aware of Ben staring intently at him.

"I'm sorry."

"What? Why?" The kid's head snapped up while he searched his brain for any possible reason why Ben's apology would be necessary but there was nothing. "_I'm _the one who was an idiot."

"Maybe, but you weren't the only one." Suppressing the laugh that bubbled up at the sight of Riley's slack-jawed confusion, Ben continued. "Alcohol makes you many things, Riley. A liar isn't one of them."

Closing his mouth, Riley again tried to gain some understanding from the words Ben used. "…I don't get it."

"Although most of what you said _is_ debatable," Riley flinched as he again thought of the remark about the world revolving around Ben, "you were right about…the way I treated you after we found the Templar Treasure."

Riley continued to stare at Ben. "…I still don't get it."

Putting down his mug, Ben raised an eyebrow as he sat forward. "Seriously?"

"I was _really _drunk, Ben. Remember?"

"Do you at least remember telling me that this entire thing was none of my business?"

Riley nodded as he cast his memory back to the argument that had started it all. "Yeah. That bit I remember."

"Well you were right." He sighed, shaking his head as he too remembered facing Riley all that time ago. "The memories of your past were not a 'treasure'… I should've left it."

Silence fell between them as Riley processed what Ben was saying. As it slowly sunk in, he began to smile.

"Thanks, Ben. That means a lot."

He took a deep drink as he leant back in his chair, putting the mug on the table beside him. Then he drew his legs up into the chair, holding them against his chest.

The last year's troubles still sat, kinda heavy on his chest. Heaviest of all was his guilt over how he'd treated Ben during his 'drunken' phase but he felt kind of…calmer and less like he ought to terrorise Mr. Chesney.

Cautiously he shifted in his chair. "So…are we good?"

Ben looked at him quizzically. "Shouldn't I be asking that?" Riley shrugged. "Yeah. I think we are."

"So…" he paused, half-knowing the answer already. "Would you help me with something…?"

* * *

As Riley knelt down he carefully placed down a small bunch of flowers. Taking a moment he closed his eyes, remembering as much as he could about the boy who lay beneath.

The memories were few, and some of the details he'd rather not have dwelled but each detail, the sights, the smells…the pains; he allowed each of them to pass before his mind thinking of each of them for but a moment before passing on to the next.

Fourteen years it had been now since the ordeal had finished; one year since he'd first remembered or near enough.

Opening his eyes, Riley waited a moment before he stood up. He didn't bother to turn to Ben who was stood waiting just a short way behind him.

Neither of them moved, Ben wanting to give Riley the space he no doubt needed while Riley read the epigraph again.

'_**-A child long lost, though far later found**_

_**Is finally at rest beneath this hallowed ground**_

_**Not on his own at his final demise**_

_**At long last revealed by a grown child's cries-**_

_**Thomas D. Scott**_

_**Forever loved, never forgotten'**_

"You alright?"

Riley shook his head. "Not really." Then he took a step back and turned to face his friend. "But I will be."

He half-heartedly returned Ben's muted smile. There had never been any doubt that Ben would join him in trying to lie to past to rest and Riley was grateful. Doing this alone would have been terrible.

"Are you ready to go?" Riley sighed deeply.

"I guess." With one last look, he made his way over to Ben. "We still need to pick up Joe anyway." A huge grin began to grow on his face. "And then…to the airport!" he jabbed a finger dramatically in the air.

Ben laughed "Are you excited by any chance?"

"Excited doesn't begin to cover it." Just the thought of getting to the airport was terrifically thrilling. He was going to Spain to visit Annie, Rob and R.J. But he wasn't going alone; Joe was coming with him. "I still think you ought to come."

"Don't be stupid, Riley." Ben patted Riley encouragingly on the back before reaching round his shoulders and pulling him in for a semi-hug. "This is a Poole sibling reunion. I can't get in the way of that."

They'd reached the edge of the cemetery and Riley could've cheered at the sight of his Ferrari. There was nothing he wanted more than to drive around for hours on end for no reason other than he'd missed using his beautiful car. But as it was, he was perfectly happy to drive up to his brother's apartment block before going on his way to Spain.

Jumping over the passenger side into the driver's seat he picked up a pen and pointed it at Ben as he reached out for the door handle.

"You better take care of my car while I'm gone." The stern glare he gave the historian fell kind of short and Ben couldn't help but to laugh. "I'm serious!"

"Am I allowed in?"

Riley feigned thought for a moment before lowering the pen. "Alright." Rolling his eyes Ben opened the door and sat down. "But I swear, if there's even one scratch on it when I get back…" He trailed off as he realised he had no real ending to that threat that he could honestly follow through.

"Don't worry, Riley." Ben interjected. "I'm fully aware of how much you love this car."

"Come on, let's go." He turned the key in the ignition and felt the engine roar into life again. God that feeling was amazing. Riley really had missed driving this glorious machine. Silently he prayed that he would never be too far from it again.

He was about to head out but paused, innocently drummed his fingers on the wheel.

"Sooo…now we're all…you know, good and stuff, are you going to tell me about your secret project with the President?"

Ben raised his eyebrow. "What do you think?"

"Oh well." Riley shrugged, smirking widely as he pulled out the parking space. "It was worth a try."

* * *

_Don't cry on a sleepless night._

_Don't fall down in cold rain._

_Live._

_Live._

_For years to come._

_Take me with you into the distant future…_

_**- Immortal Rain Volume 3**_


End file.
